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The  Earl  of  Montrose  at  the  Court  of  Charles  I. — Page  i. 


THE    FIERY    CROSS; 


OR, 


THE   VOIV  OF  MONTROSE. 


By    BARBARA    HUTTON 

(Mks.     'ALEXANDER), 

AUTHOR  OF  'castles  AND  THEIR  HEROES,'  '  TALES  OF  THE  WHITE  COCKADE,' 
'  HEROES  OF  THE  CRUSADES,'  'TALES  OF  THE  SARACENS,'  ETC. 


'Oh  never  shall  we  know  again 
A  heart  so  stout  and  true  ; 
The  olden  times  have  passed  away, 
And  weary  are  the  new.' — Avtoun. 


CHustrations  bu  Sofjn  Eabson. 


flt^  gork: 

E.   P.    DUTTOx\  &  CO., 

39  WEST  TWENTY-THIRD   STREET. 

LONDON:  GRIFFITH  AND  FARRAN,  ST.  PAUL's  CHURCHYARD. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/fierycrossorvowoOOhutt 


^,W^^\ 


PREFACE. 


THINK  no  apology  need  be  offered  for 
introducing  to  young  readers  the  well- 
known  but  ever  new  story  of  the  life, 
battles,  and  cruel  death  of  the  great  Marquis  of 
Montrose, 

He  shines  in  the  history  of  the  time,  pre-emi- 
nent for  chivalrous  loyalty  and  brilliant  qualities ; 
and  it  was  well  said  of  him  by  one  of  his  con- 
temporaries, a  French  cardinal,  '  that  he  had  never 
known  another  man  so  nearly  approaching  the 
description  given  by  Plutarch  of  the  heroes  of  old.' 

No  nation  has  surpassed  the  Scots  in  examples 
of  heroic  military  qualities ;  and  not  even  the  ad- 
ventures of  '  bonnie  Prince  Charlie '  thrill  us  more 
than  the  history  of  Montrose,  who  was  alike  the 
hero  and  the  victim  of  the  dissensions  of  his  period. 


iS'ii  Hinf^fi 


IV  Preface. 

In  the  present  prosaic  age,  when  we  are  apt,  in 
a  laudable  admiration  for  great  inventive  genius,  to 
hide  the  romantic  side  of  life,  it  may  not  be  unin- 
structive  to  the  rising  generation,  that  they  should 
also  read  of  the  disinterested  motives  and  high  aims 
of  the  Great  Cavalier  of  the  seventeenth  century, — 
a  man  who  for  honour's  sake  staked  life  and  fortune, 
and,  in  his  own  words, — 


' put  it  to  the  touch 

To  gain,  or  lose  it  all ! ' 


B.  H. 


Richmond  Hill. 


-ff^ 


THE    FIERY    CROSS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

*  Though  Cassar's  paragon  I  cannot  be, 
Yet  shall  I  soar  in  thought  as  high  as  he  !' 

HO  is  he?'  inquired  many  a  pretty  pair 
of  rosy  lips,  one  day  in  the  Palace  of 
Whitehall,  as  a  young  and  noble-looking 
cavalier  entered  and  took  his  place  among  the 
courtiers,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  King. 

The  curiosity  of  the  Court  ladies  was  soon  satis- 
fied ;  for  just  then,  the  King  himself  was  announced. 
As  Charles,  wearing  his  sad,  dignified  look,  with 
which  his  portrait  by  Velasquez  has  familiarized 
us,  entered  the  audicncc-chambcr,  the  stranger  was 
formally  presented. 

As  he  advanced  towards  the  monarch,  the  ladies 


i  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

were  enabled  to  gaze  upon  the  young  gallant.  They 
saw  that  his  figure  was  good,  and,  moreover,  that  it 
was  well  set  off,  after  the  fashion  of  the  day,  by  a 
richly-embroidered  doublet  with  wide  sleeves,  falling 
collar,  and  lace  ruffles ;  and  that  his  glossy  brown 
hair  flow^ed  loosely  over  his  well-shapen  shoulders. 
They  noted,  too,  that  his  garments  had  a  slightly 
foreign  cut ;  and  that  his  velvets  and  laces  were  of 
more  than  ordinary  costliness.  As  he  bent  his  head 
before  the  King,  his  handsome  face  beamed  brightly ; 
and  the  ladies  all  observed  that  his  penetrating  grey 
eyes,  beneath  a  fair  broad  forehead,  showed  his  clear 
complexion  to  great  advantage.  The  courtiers 
murmured  with  admiration  as  the  gallant  walked 
along  the  room.  But  their  admiration  quickly 
abated  when  they  saw  Charles's  reception  of  the 
cavalier.  The  King  merely  gave  him  his  hand  to 
kiss,  and  with  marked  coldness,  and  without  uttering 
a  word,  passed  on. 

A  deep  crimson  flush  overspreading  the  young 
man's  face,  testified  to  the  mortification  he  felt  at  his 
reception  ;  but  he  soon  recovered  his  composure,  and 
drawing  himself  proudly  up,  retired  into  the  back- 
ground. 

It  was  James  Graham,  fifth  Earl  of  Montrose, 
whom  Charles  the  First  had  thus  slighted. 

Montrose   had    just   returned   from    France   and 


71ie  Vow  of  Montrose.  3 

Italy.  A  more  accomplished  nobleman  had  seldom 
presented  himself  at  the  English  Court. 

As  Charles  was  generally  accustomed  to  graciously 
receive  noble  youths  such  as  Montrose,  his  courtiers 
were  astonished  to  see  him  thus  rebuff  the  Earl ; 
but  the  King  had  the  failing  of  all  the  Stuarts — he 
was  influenced  by  favourites.  The  Marquis  of 
Hamilton,  afraid  of  the  introduction  of  so  accom- 
plished a  man  as  Montrose,  had,  from  the  first 
moment  of  his  arrival  in  England,  intrigued  against 
him.  He  represented  to  the  King  the  danger  of  the 
young  Earl's  popularity  in  Scotland,  and  so  wrought 
on  Charles's  weakness  as  to  make  him  believe  that 
Montrose  might  prove  a  dangerous  rival  in  that 
kingdom,  then  much  disturbed  by  the  Covenanters. 

It  is  easy  to  sow  dissension  and  mistrust  between 
two  generous  natures,  when  the  insinuations  of  the 
mischief-maker  are  based  on  an  accurate  knowledge 
of  character.  Hamilton  knew  that  the  King  was 
weak,  and  Montrose  was  not  hasty.  He  had  pre- 
viously said  all  that  he  could  to  set  Montrose  against 
Charles ;  and  therefore  when  he  was  thus  publicly 
slighted,  the  Earl  left  Whitehall,  secretly  determined 
to  retire  to  Scotland,  and  not  again  present  himself 
at  Court. 

Montrose  was  at  that  time  just  twenty-four  years 
of  age.     True,  there  were  grave  defects  in  his  cha- 


4  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

racter ;  but  in  his  romantic  life  we  shall  find  many 
traits  of  greatness  and  heroism.  In  the  first  place, 
his  youth  was  a  well-spent  one,  and  not  idle.  His 
family  honours  had  descended  to  him  when  but  a 
mere  lad  ;  and  a  long  line  of  brave  soldiers  before 
him,  had  bequeathed  to  the  boy,  who  in  1616  suc- 
ceeded his  father,  an  hereditary  attachment  to  the 
house  of  Stuart. 

His  youth  was  passed  under  the  care  of  his 
brother-in-law,  Lord  Napier,  who  had  married  one 
of  Montrose's  fair  sisters.  This  clever  and  accom- 
plished nobleman  treated  the  young  Earl  as  a 
son.  The  natural  bent  of  the  lad's  mind  to  study 
and  research,  was  carefully  cultivated  under  his 
guardian's  roof.  Very  little  is  known  of  the  Earl's 
boyhood,  except  that  it  was  passed  under  Napier's 
care  ;  but  he  must  have  married  young,  as  he  was  a 
husband  before  he  started  on  his  travels.  His  wife 
was  Lady  Magdalene  Carnegy,  daughter  of  the  first 
Earl  of  Southesk.  Two  sons  were  born  to  the  pair 
before  the  Earl  was  twenty-one  years  of  age.  Of 
his  wife,  too,  there  is  little  to  tell.  It  is  believed 
that  she  died  soon  after  her  younger  son  was  born,  in 
1653.  Montrose  had  not  been  present  at  the  King's 
coronation,  for  he  was  then  in  France  in  command 
of  the  Scottish  Guard.  This  renowned  corps  of 
volunteers  were  taken  over  to  France  to  assist  Louis 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  5 

the  Thirteenth  in  his  war  against  Austria.     It  was 
composed  'of  the  bravest  company  of  men  that  ever' 
were   seen   in   France,  all   of  them   gallant   young 
gentlemen,  well  appointed.' 

The  time  that  the  young  Earl  served  with  the 
Scotch  gens  d'armes  is  not  known,  neither  is  it 
certain  that  he  saw  service  in  France ;  but  while 
on  his  travels,  he  carefully  cultivated  all  the  arts 
that  could  advance  him  in  a  military  career.  Till 
rebuffed  by  the  King,  he  had  longed  with  all  the 
enthusiasm  of  his  age  to  support  Charles's  cause  ; 
but  the  King's  reception  of  him  damped  his 
ardour. 

Montrose  retired  to  his  native  land.  His  return 
caused  much  excitement,  because  it  was  at  first  not 
known  which  faction  he  would  favour ;  and  his 
ability  and  talent  would  be  valuable  to  either.  The 
Earl  sided  with  the  Covenanters,  against  the  King. 

The  title  of  Covenanter  was  the  badge  of  a  party. 
Charles  the  First,  with  indiscreet  zeal,  had  tried  to 
force  the  English  form  of  liturgy  and  Episcopacy  on 
the  Scottish  Presbyterians. 

Enraged  at  this  attempt,  those  who  belonged  to 
that  party  drew  up  a  protest,  which  they  named  '  The 
Covenant.'  The  document  bound  all  who  signed  it 
to  resist  any  religious  changes  and  innovations. 

There  is  nothing  that  will  so  easily  lead  men  into 


6  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

bitterness  as  differences  on  points  of  religion.  From 
simply  protesting,  the  Covenanters  became  rebellious ; 
and,  inflamed  by  party  zeal,  formed  themselves  into 
a  large  body,  requiring  every  one  throughout  the 
land  to  sign  their  '  charter.' 

It  was  in  the  very  heat  of  these  agitating  events 
that  Montrose  reappeared  in  his  native  land.  In 
that  same  summer  of  1637,  Charles's  edict  for  en- 
forcing the  use  of  the  English  liturgy  in  his  Scottish 
kirks  was  carried  out  in  Edinburgh. 

The  tumult  that  ensued  was  begun  by  women. 
The  fair  sex  expressed  by  knocks  and  blows  their 
detestation  of  what  the  Scotch  call  'the  Service 
Book ; '  and  not  only  disturbed  the  congregation,  but 
tried  to  stone  the  bishop  as  he  stepped  from  the 
kirk  door  into  his  carriage,  and  barely  escaped. 

Resistance  to  the  use  of  the  prayer-book  was 
soon  universal  in  Edinburgh.  The  men  were  as 
violent  against  it  as  the  women  ;  and  many  clergy- 
men, rather  than  obey  the  royal  mandate,  submitted 
to  the  infliction  of  heavy  fines. 

Charles  did  a  foolish  thing  when  he  tried  to  make 
Calvinistic  Scotland  adopt  Prelacy  as  her  religious 
system.  It  seems  strange  that  Mary  Stuart's  grand- 
son should  have  been  so  blind  as  to  forget  that,  in 
the  eyes  of  her  subjects,  the  worst  sin  of  that  hapless 
princess  was  her  religion. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  7 

Mary's  levity  and  foreign  manners  might  have 
been  forgiven,  but  her  opposition  to  John  Knox  was 
an  unpardonable  crime  ;  for  the  Presbyterians  con- 
nected Prelacy  with  Popery. 

Their  hatred  of  Popery  is  very  great ;  and  they 
maintain  that  their  own  form  of  church  government 
by  presbyteries,  synods,  and  general  assemblies  is 
alone  conformable  to  Scripture.  Episcopalians  pre- 
fer, on  the  other  hand,  church  government  by 
bishops  ;  and  James  the  First  had  been  one  of  their 
number. 

That  pedantic  monarch  detested  the  doctrines  of 
Calvin,  and  had  done  all  that  he  could  to  enforce 
Anglican  ritual  on  the  Scotch,  but  had  signally 
failed.  Charles,  who  was  what  we  in  our  day 
should  call  a  '  High  Churchman,'  foolishly  tried  to 
follow  in  his  father's  footsteps  ;  and  that  course  may 
be  said  to  be  one  of  the  reasons  of  his  downfall. 
The  Scotch  persisted  in  believing  that  Charles's 
adviser,  Laud,  when  he  tried  to  make  them  adopt  his 
prayer-book,  was  aiming  a  blow  at  their  national 
independence  ;  and  this  feeling  led  to  stirring  events 
in  Scotland,  in  which  the  Marquis  of  Montrose  was 
destined  to  take  a  striking  part. 

In  the  first  place  he  joined  the  Covenanters.  This 
act  was  his  greatest  mistake  in  life,  and  various 
reasons  have  been  given  accounting  for  his  taking 


8  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

such  a  step.  Some  historians  declare  that,  piqued 
by  the  King's  marked  coldness  to  him,  the  young 
Marquis  was  led,  by  wounded  vanity,  to  oppose  his 
policy.  Such  an  assertion  is  totally  inconsistent 
with  the  character  of  Montrose,  which  had  nothing 
mean  or  petty  about  it ;  it  is  only  little  minds  who 
give  up  great  principles  (and  loyalty  to  his  King  was 
one  firmly  implanted  in  James  Graham's  mind)  to 
revenge  mere  trifling  wrongs.  Others,  again,  main- 
tain that  the  Earl  was  persuaded  to  join  the 
Covenanters,  by  a  nobleman, — one  of  the  chief  pro- 
moters of  the  scheme, — the  Earl  of  Rothes. 

This  nobleman  has  been  called  the  founder  of  the 
Covenant.  He  was  much  slighted  by  Charles,  who 
never  noticed  him  at  Court,  from  his  resentment  at 
the  course  that  Rothes  had  adopted  from  the  be- 
ginning of  his  reij^n,  of  opposition  to  the  King's 
Scottish  policy. 

The  friends  of  Charles  the  First  declare  that  he 
intended,  in  the  first  instance,  to  benefit  Scotland. 
Scotland  had  its  Parliament,  although  its  King  had 
left  that  kingdom  to  reign  over  another  land.  It  was 
an  assembly  that  was  very  obsequious  to  Charles,  till 
he  incurred  the  displeasure  of  its  three  estates  by 
endeavouring  to  perform  an  act  of  justice — namely, 
to  recover  the  tithes  of  the  Church  from  a  number 
of  grasping  noblemen,  who  had  appropriated  most  of 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  9 

the  ecclesiastical  revenues  to  their  own  use  at  the 
Reformation, 

This  design  was,  it  may  be  said,  the  beginning  of 
troubles  for  the  Stuarts  ;  for,  though  many  of  his 
loyal  subjects  in  Scotland  hailed  this  endeavour  to 
endow  the  clergy  as  a  great  boon,  those  noblemen, 
who  were  to  suffer  by  the  revocation  of  tithes,  were 
mortally  affronted,  and,  through  their  influence,  the 
proposal  was  vehemently  opposed. 

The  principal  appropriation  of  Church  tithes  took 
place  during  James  the  Sixth's  minority,  after  the 
Reformation,  and  was  connived  at  by  the  Regent 
Murray.  The  poor  peasant,  obliged  to  pay  a  tenth 
to  the  rich  baron  of  the  territory  from  whom  he 
held  land,  was  often  so  oppressed  by  the  nobles 
that  he  would  rebel  against  the  payment,  and,  rather 
than  submit  to  it,  would  leave  the  whole  of  his  crops 
ungathered  and  neglected,  to  the  great  detriment  of 
the  country. 

Then,  again,  the  stipend  left  for  the  maintenance 
of  the  clergy  was  miserably  small,  and  all  means  of 
educating  the  poorer  classes  at  a  stand-still.  Scot- 
land at  that  time  was  far^behind  England  in  civilisa- 
tion, although  in  many  ways  the  character  of  the 
nation  was  as  great  as  that  of  the  English. 

In  spite  of  the  absence  of  their  hereditary  sove- 
reigns, the  Scotch  were  still  faithful  and  true ;  al- 


lo  The  Fiery  Cross;  cr, 

though,  when  instigated  by  their  nobles,  who  were 
rebellious  for  their  own  ends,  they  often  became  tur- 
bulent and  ungovernable.  The  Highlanders  were  a 
totally  different  race  to  the  Lowlanders,  and  far  more 
loyal  than  the  men  of  the  plains,  who  were  also  in- 
clined to  oppose  Charles  the  First,  from  their  heredi- 
tary adherence  to  republican  Knox,  and  their  hatred 
of  Episcopacy. 

Numerous  measures  were  devised  by  Charles  and 
his  advisers  for  the  revocation  of  the  tithes.  Charles 
sent  commissioners  into  Scotland,  but  was  com- 
pelled to  treat  with  the  titheholders  in  1630,  who, 
although  the  King  granted  them  many  privileges, 
were  much  dissatisfied.  When  he  went  on  a  royal 
progress  to  Scotland  (although  joyfully  welcomed 
by  many),  several  noblemen  met  their  monarch 
with  great  coldness,  and  actually  intrigued  against 
him. 

Every  measure  proposed  by  the  King  in  the  Scot- 
tish Parliament  met  with  opposition  by  a  certain 
party.  Those  who  thwarted  the  King  became  the 
principal  promoters  of  the  Covenant  later  on,  and 
threw  off  their  disguised  loyalty  as  soon  as  Charles 
the  First,  not  wise  enough  to  hide  his  displeasure 
from  those  who  offended  him,  returned  to  England. 
The  Earl  of  Rothes  was  one  to  whom  the  King 
showed  G^reat  coldness.     Lord  Balmerino  was  tried 


The  Vozu  of  Montrose.  1 1 

and  condemned  to  death  ;  but  his  trial,  for  drawing 
up  a  seditious  petition  of  a  treasonable  character, 
ended  in  a  triumph  for  the  democratic  party  in  Scot- 
land, for  he  was  found  guilty  by  only  one  vote. 
Charles  the  First  pardoned  him,  and  his  sentence  was 
not  carried  out ;  but  the  trial  did  the  royal  cause 
great  harm,  and  prepared  the  way  for  those  who 
wished  to  make  the  introduction  into  Scotland  of 
Anglican  ritual  a  pretext  for  rebellion  against  the 
King.  Montrose  had  been  brought  up  in  Lord 
Napier's  house  with  an  especial  dread  and  horror 
of  Popery,  and  therefore  looked  jealously  on  all 
measures  introduced  by  Laud  as  tending  to  revive 
what  has  been,  and  ever  will  be,  detested  in  Eng- 
land— priestcraft. 

Lord  Napier  kept  aloof  from  all  factions  ;  but, 
long  before  the  Balmerino  trial,  had  seen  how  fatally 
reliant  Charles  the  First  was  on  the  uncompromising 
counsellors,  by  whose  advice  he  later  thrust  a  dis- 
tasteful liturgy  on  his  Scotch  subjects. 

The  Earl  of  Rothes  having  persuaded  Montrose 
ihat  the  King  was  bent  on  turning  Scotland  into  a 
mere  province  of  England,  by  taking  away  her  in- 
dependence, allowed  himself  to  be  selected  one  of 
four  noblemen  to  represent  the  lesser  barons  of  Scot- 
land, when  inflamed  against  Charles.  The  revolu- 
tionary party  formed  themselves  into  a  committee, 


1 2  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

which  became  eventually  the  government  de  facto 
of  the  kingdom. 

Charles,  finding  that  his  ill-advised  attempt  to 
introduce  the  prayer  -  book  into  Scotland  had 
virtually  failed,  determined  to  send  a  royal  com- 
missioner to  Edinburgh,  to  represent  himself,  and 
try  and  revive  that  ancient  loyalty  to  his  crown  that 
the  attempt  to  introduce  Prelacy  had  so  rudely 
shaken  in  the  Lowlands  of  Scotland. 

The  person  selected  for  this  difficult  post  was  the 
Marquis  of  Hamilton,  the  favourite  who  had  per- 
suaded the  King  to  receive  Montrose  so  coldly  when 
he  visited  Whitehall. 

The  Marquis's  reception  was  enthusiastic,  as  he 
proceeded  to  Holyrood  in  his  viceregal  character, 
although  those  noblemen  who  had  signed  the  Cove- 
nant declined  to  meet  him.  The  Marquis  pretended 
to  sympathize  deeply  with  the  alleged  grievances 
of  the  Covenanters ;  but  Rothes,  Montrose,  and 
Loudon  soon  found  out  that  he  had  no  real  instruc- 
tions from  Charles  to  meet  their  wishes ;  though 
such  was  the  craft  of  the  man,  he  tried  to  make 
them  believe  he  would  represent  all  their  grievances 
fairly  to  the  King. 

The  Marquis  then  returned  to  England,  and  Mon- 
trose was  charged  to  try  and  persuade  the  men  of 
the  north  to  join  the  Covenanting  party  by  the  time 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  13 

the  Marquis  should  return  to  Scotland,  in  order  to 
present  a  unanimous  front  to  the  King  in  repre- 
senting the  repugnance  of  the  nation  to  the  con- 
templated changes. 

The  Marquis  made  two  journeys  to  England  to 
see  his  royal  master  before  any  compromise  was 
agreed  on  with  the  antagonistical  Covenanters.  In 
the  meantime,  Montrose  had  tried  but  failed  to 
induce  the  inhabitants  of  Aberdeen  to  join  them. 

That  city  still  held  out,  and  adhered  to  its  alle- 
giance to  the  Church  as  governed  by  bishops,  and 
rejected  all  Montrose's  overtures. 

At  last  the  Marquis  of  Hamilton  returned  again 
from  the  south,  charged  with  a  proposal  from  the 
King  that  would  have  been  amply  sufficient  to  meet 
all  difficulties,  and  which  tacitly  amounted  to  a  with- 
drawal of  all  that  had  offended  his  Scottish  subjects, 
had  the  Covenanters  really  intended  only  the  good 
of  their  country. 

Montrose,  acting  as  their  tool,  presented  a  pro- 
testation from  the  malcontents,  refusing  all  terms, 
although  in  his  heart  the  young  Earl  by  no  means 
shared  the  opinion  of  the  bigoted  noblemen,  who 
believed  that  Episcopacy  was  an  actual  sin  ;  but 
while  rebelling  against  Charles,  believed  that  he  was 
compelled  to  do  so  to  save  his  country. 

The  Marquis  of  Ilamilton's  mother  was  a  Cove- 


14  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

nanter,  and  his  own  predilections  were  by  some 
thought  to  favour  her  party  ;  but  his  character  was 
a  puzzle  to  all ;  for,  while  writing  against  the 
Covenant  to  Charles,  he  managed  to  impress  many  of 
the  disaffected  noblemen  with  a  belief  in  the  good 
faith  with  which  he  listened  to  their  grievances. 

In  all  these  dissensions,  Montrose's  name  figures  as 
taking  a  leading  part.  He  was  probably  ignorant  of 
the  real  designs  of  the  leaders  of  his  party,  who  at 
length,  after  demanding  a  national  assembly,  threw 
off  the  mask,  and  declared  war  openly  against  the 
King.  This  was  in  1638  ;  and  Lord  Lorn,  afterwards 
famous  as  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  government. 

The  act  of  this  rebel — for  such  he  really  was  ; 
because,  however  indiscreet  King  Charles  had  been, 
there  was  no  excuse  for  the  Covenanters  taking  up 
arms  against  his  government — was  (as  soon  as 
Hamilton  had  returned  to  England)  to  abolish 
certain  bishoprics,  and  to  pronounce  a  solemn  sen- 
tence of  excommunication  against  them,  which  he 
and  his  colleagues  ordered  every  clergyman  to  read 
out  in  his  kirk,  on  pain  of  incurring  the  censure  of 
the  presbyteries  and  synods.  Long  before  the  out- 
break of  civil  war  the  Covenanters  had  been  prepar- 
ing for  the  struggle.  They  purchased  and  laid  in 
military  stores, — chiefly   bought    in    Holland    and 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  15 

Germany, — and  drilled  their  followers  to  the  use  of 
the  pike  and  other  warlike  weapons.  They  also  sent 
trusty  agents  abroad  to  offer  commissions  to  num- 
bers of  gentlemen,  who,  by  way  of  improving  their 
fortunes,  had  been  fighting  in  the  service  of  foreign 
princes. 

Among  the  number  attracted  by  the  call,  was  a 
very  brave  and  clever  officer  named  Alexander 
Leslie,  who  had  seen  much  foreign  service,  and 
attained  the  rank  of  field-marshal  in  the  Swedish 
army. 

The  self-constituted  Scottish  government  dis- 
missed a  great  many  clergymen  for  not  signing  the 
Covenant ;  and  most  of  the  leaders  of  the  party 
declared  themselves  in  favour  of  completely  uproot- 
ing Episcopacy  from  the  Scottish  constitution  by 
violent  measures. 

While  the  Covenanters  were  thus,  under  the  dis- 
guise of  religious  zeal,  planning  revolutionary 
schemes,  Charles  had  made  the  Marquis  of  Huntly 
lieutenant  of  the  north  of  Scotland,  although  Hamil- 
ton, whose  double  dealing  was  now  very  apparent, 
did  all  he  could  to  prevent  his  success,  by  withholding 
supplies  both  of  men  and  money  from  the  Marquis. 
Aberdeen  remained  faithful  both  to  the  Church  and 
crown,  and  the  Marquis  of  Huntly  made  that  royal 
burgh  his  chief  headquarters.     The  Highlanders  and 


1 6  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

the  north  also  remained  true  to  Charles ;  and  the 
Covenanting  nobles  therefore  turned  their  attention 
to  crush  any  loyal  efforts  in  that  direction,  before 
reinforcements  could  reach  Huntly  from  England. 

Montrose  was  selected  for  this  service. 

There  is  no  doubt  but  that  Montrose  at  this  time 
was  heart  and  soul  in  the  cause  of  his  Covenanting 
friends.  He  set  off  early  in  March,  1639,  for  his  own 
home,  accompanied  by  one  who  was  afterwards  his 
bitterest  foe,  the  Duke  of  Argyle,  as  well  as  Alex- 
ander Leslie,  under  whose  orders  trained  bodies  of 
both  foot  and  cavalry  were  raised,  to  be  ready  to 
follow  General  Montrose  to  meet  the  King's  lieu- 
tenant, the  gallant  Marquis  of  Huntly. 

That  nobleman  well  knew  the  weakness  of  the 
undisciplined  troops,  whom,  in  face  of  Leslie's  war- 
like preparations,  he  had  hastily  raised  from  among 
the  clans  that  were  loyal  to  the  King's  cause. 

He  was  daily  expecting  tidings  from  Charles  ;  but 
knowing  the  weakness  of  his  army  (only  numbering 
about  two  thousand  foot  and  horse)  compared  to  the 
strength  of  the  Covenanters,  Huntly  determined  to 
try  and  gain  time  by  entering  into  negotiations 
with  Montrose. 

Montrose's  home  was  on  the  river  Southesk,  where 
Huntly's  envoys  found  him  surrounded  by  a  well- 
prepared  army,  and  accompanied  by  Lord  Carnegy, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  1 7 

Lord  Elcho,  and  Field-Marshal  Leslie  (so  dignified 
by  the  Swedish  King),  and  several  other  noblemen. 

As  they  drew  near  Montrose,  they  passed  Mon- 
trose's army. 

The  excellent  order  that  the  deputation  noted  as 
they  passed  along  among  the  pikesmen  and  swords- 
men, made  them  only  the  more  anxious  to  come  to 
terms. 

They  looked  uneasily  at  each  other,  as  they  noted 
the  martial  bearing  of  those  determined  men,  all  of 
whom  wore  blue  scarfs  across  their  breasts,  or  blue 
ribbons  in  their  bonnets. 

Those  blue  ribbons  were  called  'Montrose's 
whimsies.'  In  opposition  to  the  'whimsies,'  Huntly's 
troops  wore  red  ribbons,  in  token  of  their  fidelity  to 
the  King. 

Huntly's  messengers  went  sadly  back  to  Aber- 
deen. They  had  met  with  no  success  in  their 
mission.  When  they  got  back  to  their  ancient 
burgh,  they  learned,  to  their  great  surprise,  that 
during  their  absence,  after  disbanding  a  great  many 
of  his  soldiers,  the  Marquis  of  Huntly  had  retired  to 
a  place  called  Strabogie. 

His  departure  opened  the  road  peaceably  to 
Montrose.  The  citizens  of  Aberdeen  were  overawed 
when  they  saw  the  gallant  general  of  the  Cove- 
nanters enter  their  burgh  at  the  head  of  a  well-dis- 


1 8  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

ciplined   body  of  men,  preceded    by  a  blue  sill;en 
banner,  on  which  they  read  the  motto — 

'  For  Religion,  the  Covenant,  and  the  Countrie.' 

They  were  compelled  to  pay  a  fine,  and  to  submit 
to  the  suspension  of  all  public  worship  according  to 
Episcopal  form  throughout  the  city.  The  citizens 
of  Aberdeen  felt  themselves  in  a  hard  plight.  They 
had  stoutly  resisted  the  Covenant,  and  most  of  them 
were  Charles's  loyal  subjects.  Some  among  them, 
rather  than  sign  the  hated  Covenant,  even  fled  by 
sea  to  join  the  King,  who  at  that  time  was  as  much 
plagued  by  the  Puritans  in  England  as  he  was  by 
the  Covenanters  in  Scotland.  But  when  the  citizens 
found  themselves  deserted  by  Huntly,  their  bishop 
fled,  and  Montrose  in  the  city,  they  felt  obliged  to 
do  all  they  could  to  save  the  town  and  their  own 
homes  by  receiving  the  enemy  without  bloodshed. 

Making  the  Earl  of  Kinghorn  governor  of  Aber- 
deen, Montrose  soon  marched  off  again.  He  went 
towards  Inverary,  hearing  that  Huntly  had  en- 
camped there. 

The  King's  northern  lieutenant,  like  the  citizens  of 
Aberdeen,  felt  himself  deserted  ;  for  he  received  no 
answers  from  England  to  his  numerous  appeals  for 
aid  ;  while  on  every  side  he  heard  of  the  success  of 
the  Covenanters. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  rg 

At  last,  despairing  of  receiving  aid  in  time  to 
defeat  Montrose,  Huntly  proposed  a  personal  inter- 
view between  himself  and  the  Covenanters,  to  dis- 
cuss their  differences. 

Two  interviews  took  place  between  Huntly  and 
Montrose,  each  accompanied  to  the  rendezvous  by 
eleven  of  their  friends,  unarmed. 

Feeling  acutely  the  helplessness  of  his  position  as 
long  as  he  was  unsupported  by  England,  Huntly 
was  induced  to  sign  a  paper  in  favour  of  '  the  liberties 
of  Scotland.'  He  also  consented  to  return  with 
Montrose  to  the  Covenanters*  camp,  to  sign  another 
paper,  embodying  the  stipulations  agreed  on  between 
them.  Huntly  went,  relying  on  the  Earl's  word 
that  he  should  be  free  to  return. 

Although  treated  most  courteously  by  his  enemies, 
Lord  Huntly  felt  uneasy,  when,  foremost  among 
Montrose's  supporters,  he  saw  his  personal  foes,  the 
Forbeses  and  the  Erasers.  He  began  to  fear  be- 
trayal ;  but  as  soon  as  the  deed  was  signed,  he  was 
allowed  to  return  unmolested. 

Shame  to  the  wearers  of '  the  broom  and  the  yew,' 
the  Forbeses  and  Erasers,  who  sport  those  moun- 
tain emblems  as  badges  of  their  clan,  the  gallant 
Huntly  had  scarcely  quitted  their  camp,  when  they 
reproached  Montrose  with  allowing  him  to  escape. 
Lords   Murray  and    Seaforth,   and   the    Master   of 


20  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Lovat,  all  chimed  in,  and  intrigued  to  lay  a  trap  for 
Huntly,  by  inviting  him  to  another  interview. 

The  gallant  Gordon  consented  to  another  inter- 
view. He  did  not  doubt  Montrose's  word,  but  he 
had  soon  great  reason  to  regret  his  misplaced  con- 
fidence. This  passage  in  Montrose's  history  is  but 
little  to  his  credit,  for  it  was  beneath  his  noble 
nature,  even  in  intention,  to  break  a  promise. 

Huntly  being  once  more  in  the  Covenanters' 
power,  they  determined  not  to  let  him  go.  A 
strict  watch  was  kept  over  his  lodgings;  and  when 
at  length,  his  eyes  being  opened,  Huntly  indig- 
nantly demanded  back  the  paper  he  had  signed, 
he  exclaimed,  as  he  turned  to  Montrose,  'Am  I  to 
accompany  you  south'  —  the  Earl  had  told  him 
that  he  expected  him  to  return  to  Edinburgh  with 
him — 'voluntarily,  or  as  your  prisoner.-" 

'  You  can  make  your  choice,'  said  Montrose. 

'  Then  I  will  go  willingly,  and  not  as  a  prisoner,' 
replied  Huntly. 

Whatever  reluctance  Montrose  may  have  felt  to 
such  a  treacherous  act,  the  Marquis  and  his  eldest 
son  were  carried  off  a  fortnight  later  (April  1639), 
when  the  Covenanters,  leaving  the  Forbeses  and 
Erasers  to  guard  the  north,  returned  to  Edinburgh. 

In  the  meantime,  King  Charles,  although  dis- 
tracted  by  troubles  in    Edinburgh,  had  at   length 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  21 

awakened  to  the  knowledge  that  help  must  be  sent 
to  those  gallant  Highlanders  still  faithful  to  his 
crown.  The  Gordons  were  also  wild  to  revenue  the 
perfidy  with  which  Huntly  had  been  taken.  In  an 
encounter  between  the  loyal  northern  barons  and  the 
Forbeses,  the  former  came  off  victorious ;  and  just 
as  the  Covenanters,  dismayed  at  the  check  they  had 
received,  were  consulting  what  was  best  to  be  done, 
they  were  startled  to  find  a  fleet  of  twenty-nine  of 
the  King's  ships  in  the  Firth,  bringing  Hamilton 
back  again  as  general  of  the  forces. 

Once  more  Montrose,  at  the  head  of  an  army  of 
four  thousand  men,  returned  to  Aberdeen,  charged 
to  attack  the  loyal  barons.  He  spared  the  town 
again,  and  endeavoured  (but  ineffectually)  to  besiege 
Sir  George  Gordon  of  Gight's  house,  but  was 
thwarted  in  his  design  of  taking  it  by  its  owner's 
promptness  in  fortifying  it  securely  before  his  ap- 
proach. 

Forced  to  retreat  to  Aberdeen,  Montrose  again 
marched  his  forces  southwards  in  good  order,  before 
Lord  Aboyne  (who,  although  a  mere  lad  of  nine- 
teen, had  been  sent  to  Scotland  to  take  Huntly's 
post,  and  had  anchored  off  Aberdeen)  had  had  time 
to  land.  Aboyne  waited  to  disembark  with  tlie 
King's  troops,  in  hopes  of  some  further  reinforce- 
ments that  Hamilton  had  led  him  to  suppose  would 


2  2  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

eagerly  join  him.  Not  only  did  none  press  forward 
to  the  assistance  of  Charles's  Heutenant  in  the  north, 
bat  the  Earl  of  Tulhbardine  and  a  chieftain  named 
Glencairn  abandoned  him  when  they  saw  how  small 
a  number  of  adherents  flocked  round  the  royal 
banner,  Montrose  met  and  defeated  Aboyne,  after 
deeds  of  great  valour  on  both  sides  ;  and  Aberdeen 
would  probably  have  been  entirely  destroyed,  out  of 
revenge  for  the  loyal  assistance  it  had  rendered  the 
King's  party,  had  not  Montrose,  almost  at  the  very 
hour  in  Avhich  he  contemplated  ordering  it  to  be 
burnt,  received  the  joyful  news  that  between  Charles 
and  his  rebellious  subjects  a  treaty  of  peace  had 
been  concluded. 

This  agreement  is  called  in  history  the  Treaty  of 
Berwick. 

Tormented  by  the  Puritans  in  England,  and 
harassed  by  the  want  of  money,  Charles  had  with 
great  difficulty  raised  an  army  to  march  against  his 
northern  subjects. 

The  Covenanters,  under  the  Earl  of  Argyle,  had 
seized  many  of  the  King's  castles.  They  had  forti- 
fied Leith,  while  Montrose,  as  we  know,  had 
organized  an  attack  on  the  faithful  Highlands. 

The  dread  of  Episcopacy  was  strong  throughout 
Scotland  ;  but  even  among  the  Covenanters  many  a 
heart  beat  true  and  loyally  to  the  unhappy  Charles, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  23 

now  arrived  with  his  army  on  the  borders,  just  as 
Montrose  had  entered  Aberdeen.  Of  this  party- 
was  our  hero's  early  friend,  Lord  Napier.  He  sug- 
gested that  a  commission  should  be  formed  to  treat 
with  Charles  ;  and  his  advice  was  followed. 

The  King  agreed  to  receive  Rothes,  and  four  of 
his  Covenanting  associates  of  influence  at  his  camp. 
The  interview  took  place  in  Lord  Arundel's  tent. 
After  much  debate  upon  the  grievances  of  his  party, 
Rothes  and  the  King  concluded  their  conference  by 
drawing  up  a  written  agreement,  which  both  signed. 

The  Covenanters  agreed  to  deliver  into  the  King's 
hands  all  the  castles  and  fortresses  that  they  had 
seized.  Their  troops  were  to  be  disbanded,  and 
Huntly  and  other  prisoners  to  be  set  free.  The 
King,  on  the  other  hand,  agreed  to  certain  important 
concessions,  such  as  a  General  Assembly  to  de- 
liberate on  the  articles  of  pacification  ;  and  so  peace 
was  to  be  made  between  the  rival  factions. 

The  Marquis  of  Huntly  and  his  son  Lord  Gor- 
don, who  had  been  imprisoned  in  Edinburgh,  were 
set  at  liberty,  and  repaired  to  the  King's  camp. 

The  General  Assembly,  which  was  to  have  been 
followed  by  a  Parliament,  was  convened,  and  Charles 
fulfilled  all  the  promises  that  he  had  made  to  the 
Scots  as  faithfully  as  lay  in  his  power.  They,  on 
their  side,  did  all  they  could  to  evade  compliance 


24  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

with  such  articles  of  the  treaty  as  were  repugnant  to 
their  republican  spirit.  Montrose  disbanded  his 
troops  ;  but  the  fact  that  the  hearts  of  the  Presby- 
terians were  far  from  loyal,  received  further  proofs 
as  Charles's  representatives  drove  through  Edin- 
burgh, Women,  always  foremost  in  everything  of  a 
religious  character,' threw  stones  at  their  coach,  and 
incited  quite  a  tumult  when  the  youthful  Aboync 
drove  through  their  city. 

Most  unfortunately  for  himself,  Charles  placed 
full  confidence  in  Hamilton. 

We  all  know  what  it  is  to  lean  on  the  advice  of  a 
friend  in  whose  honour  and  truth  we  fully  rely  ;  but 
rarely  indeed  may  a  king  indulge  safely  in  private 
friendships.  The  inequality  of  rank  is  sure  to 
lead  to  favouritism.  Hamilton  pretended  to  enter 
zealously  into  the  King's  schemes ;  but  he  was  at 
heart  a  traitor,  for  he  was  in  secret  treaty  with  the 
Covenanters. 

Charles  soon  grew  disgusted  with  his  Scottish 
subjects.  The  chief  nobles,  whom  he  invited  to  his 
camp,  refused,  on  the  most  frivolous  pretences,  to 
obey  his  summons  ;  and  the  King  saw  his  royal 
proclamations,  forbidding  public  meetings  for  the 
purposes  of  religious  agitation,  scornfully  disregarded 
by  the  leaders  of  the  Covenant. 

The  Earl  of  Montrose  was  among  the  number,  who 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  25 

reluctantly  presented  himself  before  his  sovereign. 
They  had  not  met  since  Charles,  instigated  by  the 
crafty  Hamilton,  had  so  coldly  slighted  him  at 
Whitehall. 

The  young  nobleman,  too  honest  for  the  party 
that  looked  upon  Argyle  as  their  leader,  was  be- 
ginning to  distrust  his  associates.  His  interview  with 
Charles  impressed  him  powerfully.  Did  any  pre- 
sentiment cross  the  young  Earl's  mind,  as  he  gazed 
on  the  troubled  brow  of  his  unhappy  King,  that  the 
time  would  come  when  he  should  breathe  a  vow  in 
Charles's  name,  and  mount  the  scaffold  rather  than 
break  it } 

Disgusted  and  annoyed,  the  King,  instead  of 
opening  the  Scottish  Parliament  in  person,  returned 
hastily  to  England  ;  and  Montrose — the  memory  of 
his  sovereign's  stately  presence  and  gracious  bearing 
still  fresh  in  his  mind — returned  to  Edinburgh. 

The  General  Assembly  that  met  in  August  1639 
condemned  Prelacy  as  contrary  to  the  Bible,  Not 
content  with  this,  the  leaders  of  the  Covenant,  when 
Parliament  met,  aimed  at  destroying  the  actual 
prerogatives  of  the  crown,  by  declaring  that  all  State 
functions  should  be  exercised  by  that  power. 

Montrose  pondered  long  over  the  perplexing 
questions  of  the  day.  He  had  unsheathed  his  sword 
against  his  King,  believing  that  the  liberties  of  his 


26  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

country  were  endangered  ;  but  he  was  not  prepared 
to  assent  to  a  democratic  form  of  government. 

He  had  the  courage  to  oppose  the  party  who 
were  secretly  trying  to  get  the  government  of  Scot- 
land into  their  own  hands.  Its  leaders  began  to 
suspect  Montrose.  They  knit  their  brows  as  they 
heard  his  honest  objections  to  their  schemes  ;  and  it 
got  bruited  about  that  Montrose  had  been  bribed  by 
Charles,  when  he  saw  him  at  Berwick. 

One  day,  Montrose,  as  he  left  his  room,  picked  up 
a  paper,  which  had  evidently  been  purposely  left  on 
its  threshold.  It  bore  four  significant  Latin  words  : 
Indictiis  armis  verbis  vincitur.  *  Resistless  in  war, 
he  was  vanquished  by  words.' 

If  this  secret  thrust  was  intended  to  dismay  the 
honest  Earl,  it  failed  in  its  purpose.  He  had  joined 
the  Covenanters  to  oppose  a  policy  which  he  deemed 
detrimental  to  the  freedom  of  the  country  ;  but  he 
came  of  a  race  too  loyal  to  sanction  or  join  in 
the  democratic  views  of  such  men  as  Argyle  and 
others,  who  were  beginning  openly  to  affirm,  that  a 
Parliament  might  act  as  well  without  as  with  a 
king. 

The  King's  commissioner,  Lord  Traquair,  had  been 
roughly  received  when  he  went  to  open  the  Scotch 
Parliament  in  the  name  of  King  Charles,  who,  find- 
ing that  the  Covenanters  were  agitating  against  him, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  27 

ordered  the  session  to  be  dissolved ;  but  the  Cove- 
nanters defied  the  royal  message,  and  carried  out 
their  own  views  in  the  name  of  the  National  As- 
sembly. 

In  spite  of  Montrose's  views  being  known  as 
favourable  to  the  monarchy,  he  was  entrusted  with 
a  miHtary  command,  when  the  Covenanters  once 
more  marched  a  large  army  under  General  Leslie 
towards  the  English  border. 

Montrose's  heart  was  very  heavy  when,  suspected 
by  his  colleagues,  and  not  quite  at  ease  with  the 
cause  for  which  he  once  more  donned  the  'blue 
whimsies '  of  the  Covenant,  he  assumed  a  military 
command. 

Between  himself  and  Argyle  especially,  there 
existed  mutual  distrust  and  contempt,  Argyle 
despised  the  Earl's  honesty  of  purpose ;  the  latter 
felt  supreme  scorn  of  Argyle's  crooked  policy. 

Campbell  has  been  called  as  crooked  in  mind 
as  he  was  sinister  in  face  ;  for  that  celebrated  leader 
of  the  Covenanters  had  not  been  personally  gifted 
by  nature.  He  was  short  of  stature,  red-haired,  and 
near-sighted  ;  yet  he  had  brilliant  talents.  A  great 
writer  of  those  times  has  said — 'Argyle  wanted 
nothing  but  honesty  and  courage  to  be  an  extra- 
ordinary man.'  Montrose,  with  his  lofty  bearing, 
gentle    manners,   and   handsome    face,  exhibited    a 

c 


28  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

great  contrast  to  the  man  under  whom  he  worked 
for  the  Covenant, 

In  order  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  fanatical 
Presbyterian  clergy,  Argyle  adopted  the  favourite 
expressions  of  the  Covenanters.  Such  hypocrisy 
was  hateful  to  Montrose. 

Archibald  Lord  Lorn,  later  Earl  and  then  Mar- 
quis of  Argyle,  came  of  a  lofty  lineage  and  race. 
We  must  turn  to  the  annals  of  one  of  the  most 
interesting  races  in  the  world,  the  Highlanders  of 
Scotland,  for  his  pedigree. 

The  Highlanders  claim  to  be  descended  from  the 
Picts.  The  Campbells  have  a  legend  that  their  clan 
are  all  descended  from  a  Pictish  hero,  called  *  Diar- 
mad  of  the  wild  boar  ;'  and  they  take  a  boar's  head 
as  their  crest.  The  common  ancestor,  however,  of 
the  whole  of  this  vast  clan,  who  sport  as  their  badge 
the  fir  club  moss,  and  use  as  their  rallying  cry  in 
battle  the  word  '  Cruachan,'  the  name  of  a  mountain 
in  Argyllshire,  was  a  'Cambel/  or  'Kambel,'  who 
had  lands  granted  him  by  King  Robert  Bruce,  one 
Sir  Colin.  This  Sir  Colin  was  Robert  Bruce's 
nephew.  His  descendants,  the  'Caileam  Mor '  family, 
became  very  powerful,  and  compelled  several  smaller 
clans  to  adopt  their  name,  now  one  of  the  com- 
monest in  Scotland  ;  but  they  principally  rose  from 
supplanting  the   Macdonalds,   who   have  the  best 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  29 

claim  to  be  ranked  as  the  most  ancient  clan  in  the 
Highlands.  That  ancient  race,  who  say  that  they 
are  descended  from  a  Pict  named  Somerled,  inter- 
married with  the  Lords  of  Lorn.  Between  them  and 
the  clan  of  the  '  MacCaileam  Mor '  (a  name  given 
to  the  chieftain  of  the  Campbells,  and  which  means 
'Son  of  the  great  Colin')  a  great  rivalry  always 
existed. 

The  Campbell  clan  in  171 5  was  reckoned  powerful 
enough  to  bring  4000  men  into  the  field  ;  and  they 
were  as  numerous  in  1638,  when  Archibald  Lord 
Lorn  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  opposition 
to  Charles  the  First. 

Charles  the  First  had  highly  favoured  Lord 
Lorn.  He  had  made  him  a  privy  councillor,  and 
fully  trusted  him  ;  yet  on  all  accounts  he  had  done 
so  unwisely. 

He  who  is  not  true  to  a  father,  will  never  be  true 
to  a  king.  Charles,  though  accused  of  favouring 
the  errors  of  Rome,  disliked  Papists.  The  Earl's 
father  had  become  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  by  so 
doing  offended  the  King.  With  arbitrary  power, 
Charles  ordered  the  old  Earl  to  give  up  his  family 
estates  and  honours  to  his  eldest  son,  to  atone  for 
his  change  of  faith.  This  order,  so  unjust  according 
to  our  modern  notions,  the  noble  convert  submitted 
to  ;  but  he  declared  'that  he  was  hardly  dealt  with  ! 


30  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

As  he  left  the  King's  presence,  he  exclahned  with 
involuntary  bitterness  : 

'Sire,  I  know  that  younc^  man' — pointing  to  his 
son — '  far,  far  better  than  your  Majesty  does.  You 
may  raise  him,  but  you  will  live  to  repent  it ;  he 
is  crafty,  subtle,  and  false  ;  he  can  love  no  one.  If 
ever  he  finds  he  can  do  you  mischief,  he  will  do 
it!' 

In  spite  of  this  warning — that,  later  on,  Charles 
must  often  have  remembered — the  King  placed  the 
false  but  fair-spoken  Campbell  in  positions  of  trust. 
Under  the  guise  of  patriotism  and  religious  zeal,  he 
was  as  double-dealing  towards  Charles  as  he  had 
been  towards  his  father.  With  such  a  character  the 
honest  Montrose  had  little  in  common.  He  had 
scarcely  joined  the  Scottish  army,  when  he  learnt 
Argyle  was  secretly  scheming  to  become  a  military 
despot  over  the  whole  of  the  country  north  of  the 
Tweed. 

The  Earl  of  Montrose,  who  had  taken  up  arms 
against  Charles  solely  from  patriotic  motives,  was 
disgusted  to  find  that  the  idea  of  dethroning  him 
was  openly  talked  of  among  the  Covenanting  leaders. 
As  soon  as  his  eyes  were  opened  to  their  real  designs, 
Montrose  hurried  back  to  Edinburgh ;  and  while 
feeling  unwilling  to  abandon  his  party,  yet  averse  to 
such  disloyalty,  endeavoured  to  counteract  Argyle's 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  31 

ambitious  schemes  by  framing"  a  bond,  and  inducing 
several  noblemen  to  sign  it. 

This  bond  was  to  the  effect  that  no  act  of  any 
importance  was  to  be  undertaken  by  any  one 
member  of  the  party  without  the  full  knowledge  of 
all.  This  deed,  so  worded  as  to  secure  the  safety  of 
the  country  from  Argyle's  views,  was  afterwards 
brought  forward  against  Montrose.  When  the  deed 
was  signed,  he  rejoined  the  army  ;  but  it  was  with 
a  heavy  heart  and  strong  misgivings.  When  the 
Covenanters,  on  the  21st  of  August  1640,  crossed  the 
Tweed,  it  was  Montrose  whose  lot  it  was,  singularly 
enough,  to  lead  the  way.  Newcastle  was  taken,  after 
a  victory  over  the  royal  troops  at  Newburn,  by  the 
Covenanters. 

Just  as  I  am  leading  you  by  my  narrative  to 
understand  the  reasons  that  led  Montrose  to  change 
his  political  views,  and  from  being  a  staunch  Cove- 
nanter to  turn  into  an  equally  devoted  royalist,  I 
must  digress  a  little  to  describe  the  costume  of  the 
period,  both  of  civilians  and  soldiers  ;  for  in  those 
days  dress  was  a  badge  of  political  parties. 

The  Puritans  acquired  the  name  of  Roundheads 
from  cropping  their  hair  close  to  their  heads.  They 
looked  upon  the  large,  square  beards  hitherto 
worn  by  the  clergy  with  great  dislike.  The  Puritan 
ministers  cut  their  hair  and  their  beards  as  short  as 


32  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

they  could,  donned  plain  doublets,  and  wore  Geneva 
bands.  They,  however,  wore  large  boots,  for  it  was 
the  fashion  in  those  days  to  wear  shoes  and  boots 
two  inches  too  long  for  the  wearer's  feet.  A  Cavalier's 
boots  were  not  only  very  large,  but  fringed  with  lace, 
sometimes  as  low  down  as  his  jingling  spurs. 

'  What  creature's  this,  with  his  short  hairs, 
His  little  band,  and  huge  long  ears  ! ' 

said  a  royalist  and  satirical  ballad  of  the  day.  The 
Cavaliers,  on  the  contrary,  wore  their  hair  long,  and 
flowing  in  a  most  picturesque  fashion.  They  adorned 
their  tall  hats  with  ribbons  and  feathers.  They 
trimmed  their  beards  to  a  point,  and  favoured  love- 
locks and  moustaches  ;  they  were  gay  in  ornamented 
breeches,  tight  vest,  and  rich  laced  shirts,  with  velvet 
cloaks  flung  over  the  arm  ;  and,  in  fact,  in  every  way 
opposed  the  plainness  and  simplicity  of  the  Round- 
heads' costume. 

At  that  time  soldiers  had  discarded  the  heavy 
cumbrous  armour  of  previous  reigns.  They  wore 
back  and  breast-plates  of  mail  over  coats  of  strong 
buff",  stout  boots,  and  helmets. 

The  bowmen  of  old  were  almost  extinct.  Fh'e- 
arms  had  superseded  the  bow  and  arrow ;  the 
infantry  of  the  day  were  pikesmen  and  musketeers. 

In  these  days  of  Chassepots  and  mitrailleuses, 
we  can  scarcely  imagine  how  the  heavy  musket  gun 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  33 

in  use  then  could  be  of  much  service,  since  the 
soldier  could  neither  point  nor  fire  the  cumbrous 
weapon  till  it  was  placed  on  an  iron  rest.  The 
musketeer  had  to  fix  the  sharp -pointed  legs  of 
the  rest  into  the  ground  before  he  could  let  off 
his  gun.  Four  corps  composed  the  King's  cavalry. 
There  were  lancers  and  cuirassiers.  The  latter  bore 
swords  and  pistols,  and  were  so  named  from  wear- 
ing cuirasses  over  their  buff  coats.  Then  there 
were  dragoons  and  harquebussiers,  so  called  because 
they  carried  a  weapon  known  as  a  harquebuss.  The 
bayonet  was  not  introduced  till  much  later  in 
history. 

It  was  during  the  truce  that  followed  the  easy 
capture  of  Newcastle  by  Montrose  and  other  Scottish 
generals,  that  the  former  wrote  to  his  injured 
sovereign.  Although  Montrose  had  a  perfect  right 
to  address  Charles,  there  were  not  wanting,  among 
those  who  were  in  that  irresolute  monarch's  confi- 
dence, many  ready  to  betray  all  that  passed  to  the 
Scotch, 

The  pretence  that  the  Earl's  letters  to  Charles 
were  treacherous  acts  towards  the  Covenant,  served 
Argyle's  purpose  well ;  for  he  and  many  of  his 
colleagues  had  long  doubted  Montrose,  because  they 
knew  he  was  too  honest  to  support  their  secret 
schemes.     However,  when  Montrose  was  taxed  with 


34  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or^ 

his  correspondence  with  the  King,  he  avowed  it  so 
openly  and  fearlessly,  that  even  his  worst  enemies 
could  not  convict  him  of  treachery.  The  letters, 
Montrose  affirmed,  contained  merely  good  advice, 
which  was  probably  thrown  away  on  the  vacillating 
King. 

Montrose  soon  realized  the  fact  that  he  was  now 
suspected  and  watched  by  the  Covenanters.  As  he 
himself  expressed  it  to  one  of  his  friends,  'he  was 
crossed  ;'  he  therefore,  in  the  early  part  of  1641,  left 
the  army  and  returned  to  Edinburgh. 

The  troubles  of  his  native  land  at  that  time  were 
indeed  sufficient  to  wring  his  patriotic  soul  with 
grief  and  anguish.  His  relation  Lord  Napier,  and 
many  of  Montrose's  friends  who  shared  his  views, 
often  visited  him,  to  talk  about  public  affairs.  As 
one  remedy  for  the  evils  that  they  all  now  perceived 
had  arisen  from  the  Covenanting  agitation,  Lord 
Napier  implored  his  sovereign  to  visit  Scotland  in 
person.  The  tyranny  of  the  popular  movement  was 
becoming  greater  and  greater.  The  cry  at  first  had 
been,  'Down  with  the  bishops,'  and  much  of  the 
freedom  we  now  enjoy  may  doubtless  be  traced  to 
the  opposition  in  those  troublous  times  to  the  exces- 
sive prerogative  of  the  Crown  ;  but  from  defence  of 
religious  freedom,  the  Scotch  had  proceeded  to 
republicanism,  and   those  who  differed  from    them 


The  Vow  of  Montrose,  35 

were  hunted  down,  under  the  cry  that  they  were 
'incendiaries,'  None  who  had  the  ill-fortune  to 
offend  the  Covenanting  clergy  were  safe  in  that 
reign  of  terror,  and  honest  and  loyal  persons  were 
often  denounced  from  Presbyterian  pulpits. 

Owing  to  some  accidental  expressions  let  fall 
by  a  dying  man  who,  among  others,  had  signed 
Montrose's  bond  at  Cumbernauld,  Argyle  discovered 
the  deed,  and  openly  denounced  the  Earl.  His 
honesty,  however,  once  more  saved  him.  When 
asked  if  he  had  indeed  been  instrumental  in  draw- 
ing up  such  a  document,  Montrose  not  only  openly 
avowed  his  share  in  the  transaction,  but  produced 
the  very  bond  itself,  and  gave  it  up.  It  was  then 
destroyed. 

Finding  that  he  was  calumniated  in  his  own  neigh- 
bourhood, Montrose  determined  to  vindicate  himself 
by  asking  the  clergymen  on  his  property  to  meet 
him  at  a  conference. 

He  met  them  first  at  Perth  and  then  at  Scone 
Abbey,  and  told  them  how  he  had  drawn  up  the 
bond  in  consequence  of  his  discovery  of  Argylc's 
ambitious  schemes. 

It  must  have  been  a  striking  moment  when,  later 
on,  Montrose  with  perfect  dignity  and  presence  of 
mind  confronted  Argyle,  and  repeated  all  the  ac- 
cusations against   him.     The  artful   Argyle  denied 


36  The  Ft  cry  Cross  ;  or^ 

the  whole  matter,  and  Montrose  was  arrested  and 
confined  in  Edinburgh  Castle. 

After  his  lodgings  in  Edinburgh  and  his  house  at 
Old  Montrose  had  been  searched  in  vain  for  letters 
or  papers  likely  to  criminate  him,  the  Earl  was 
examined  before  a  committee  appointed  by  the 
Scottish  Parliament,  and  treated  with  great  indignity. 
In  the  midst  of  the  persecution  to  which  the  Earl 
was  subjected,  Charles  arrived  at  Holyrood.  This 
was  in  August  1641.  The  unhappy  monarch  tried 
to  conciliate  the  hearts  of  the  stubborn  Covenanter's 
by  giving  away  many  titles  and  honours  to  the 
leaders ;  but  these  concessions  failed  to  strengthen 
his  cause.  Argyle  himself  was  created  a  Marquis  ; 
and  then  the  King  endeavoured  to  serve  Montrose, 
who,  after  a  time,  was  liberated,  and  rewarded  with 
many  flattering  speeches.  He  however,  for  a  time, 
retired  into  private  life,  and  went  to  live  at  Old 
Montrose. 

In  that  retreat  he  could  not  have  been  unhappy, 
because  he  loved  study,  and  could  fill  up  his  leisure 
with  many  refined  pursuits.  There,  however,  came 
news  of  the  civil  wars  between  Charles  and  his 
Parliament.  His  sovereign  wrote  truly,  when  he 
said,  '  Duty  and  loyalty  were  sufficient  to  Montrose,' 
who  heard  with  grief  how  Charles  had  erected 
the  royal  standard  at  Nottingham.      He  watched 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  37 

how,  little  by  little,  all  hope  of  peace  between  the 
rival  parties  drifted  away,  and  how  rebellion,  on 
the  one  hand,  grew  as  the  want  of  firmness  was 
exhibited  on  the  other.  At  last  Montrose  joined 
Charles,  and  offered  to  support  the  cause  of  royalty 
in  Scotland  by  his  sword.  After  a  time,  having 
received  the  King's  commission,  which  was  dated 
the  first  of  February  1644,  as  Lieutenant-General 
of  Scotland  under  Prince  Maurice,  our  hero  com- 
menced that  adventurous  career  which  stamps 
him  the  most  gallant  champion  that  ever  fought 
for  a  king.  Having  told  you  how  he  first  became 
and  then  ceased  to  be  a  Covenanter,  the  imme- 
diate consequences  of  his  change  of  opinion  must  be 
told  in  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER   11. 


'  He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 
Or  his  deserts  are  small, 
That  puts  it  not  unto  the  touch, 
To  win  or  lose  it  all.' 

— Marquis  of  Montrose. 

^^T  was  with  no  small  difficulty  that  Montrose 
had  obtained  Charles's  consent  to  this 
expedition.  In  1642,  wearied  with  a 
contest  in  which  he  was  always  beaten  by  his 
Parliament,  Charles  had  resorted  to  arms  to  sub- 
due his  rebellious  subjects. 

The  Queen,  on  her  return  from  Holland,  where 
Charles  had  sent  her  for  safety,  had  consulted  Mon- 
trose as  to  the  state  of  Scotland  at  that  time. 

They  met  at  York,  and  Montrose  placed  every 
circumstance  before  her.  No  flatterer,  the  truthful 
cavalier  told  her  that  the  state  of  his  native  land 

was  as  alarmin<j  as  that  of  England,  and  that  the 

38 


The  Vow  of  Montrose,  39 

Covenanters,  unless  repressed,  would  prove  as  for- 
midable as  the  English  Puritans. 

The  descendant  of  the  great  Graham — *  Graham 
More ' — who  defied  the  Romans  under  Severus, 
pleaded  hard  that  the  Queen  should  see  England's 
danger  before  it  was  too  late,  if  the  Covenanters  (as 
Montrose  thought  that  they  would)  should  join  the 
English  rebels.  He  told  her,  '  Force  must  be  met 
with  force,'  and  that  Scotland,  although  armed  by 
the  Covenanters,  yet  held  many  a  faithful  stout  heart, 
ready,  if  needs  be,  to  die  for  the  King  ;  but  that 
delay  was  fatal  to  the  royal  cause.  '  Scotland,'  he 
said,  '  was  like  one  suffering  from  some  sad  disease. 
If  a  physician  took  the  malady  in  "  time,"  the 
patient's  life  might  even  then  be  spared.' 

Perhaps  the  earnestness  with  which  he  spoke  in 
the  singleness  of  his  purpose  might  have  had  some 
influence  with  Henrietta  Maria,  but  for  the  subtle 
advice  of  the  double-dealing  Hamilton. 

Under  pretence  of  congratulating  the  Queen  on 
her  safe  return,  the  latter  hurried  back  to  York  from 
Scotland  to  interpose  delays,  and  suggest  defects  in 
Montrose's  counsel. 

'The  Marquis,'  Hamilton  pleaded,  'was  brave; 
but  he  was  young,  rash,  and  ambitious.  Let  the 
King  first  try  gentle  measures  to  preserve  the  fidelity 
of  Scotland.' 


40  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or. 

Once  more  Hamilton's  influence  was  against  Mon- 
trose. The  King  and  Queen  were  alike  captivated 
and  ensnared  by  one  who  was  secretly  employed  by 
the  Covenanters,  and  they  would  not  heed  Montrose's 
tale.  After  telling  them  that  the  Covenanters  were 
arming  a  large  body  of  men,  strengthening  their 
position,  and  preparing  to  march  into  England,  our 
hero  went  sorrowfully  away.  The  glamour  of  evil 
counsel  was  over  weak,  irresolute,  deluded  Charles  ; 
and,  till  the  Covenanters'  army  was  marching  eighteen 
thousand  foot  and  two  thousand  horsemen  strong 
towards  the  border,  he  still  trusted  in  the  advice  of 
Hamilton,  who  kept  assuring  him  that  all  was  still 
peaceable  and  secure  in  the  north. 

When  we  find  ourselves  betrayed,  we  turn  to  the 
nearest  support  we  can  find  to  aid  us.  In  his 
despair,  King  Charles  remembered  Montrose ;  and 
when  he  thought  on  the  young  Earl's  stedfast,  true, 
and  gallant  nature,  he  asked  his  advice. 

It  was  then,  indeed,  beyond  Montrose's  power  to 
undo  the  mischief  worked  by  that  fatal  delay. 
*  Sire,'  he  said  sorrowfully,  '  for  a  twelvemonth  I 
have  urged  you  to  prevent  what  has  now  happened.' 

He  knew  that  while  Scotland  had  provided  her- 
self with  arms,  men,  and  money,  the  King  had 
neither  men  nor  money  at  his  command  ;  but  he  did 
not  shrink  from  joining  so  failing  a  cause.     He  was 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  41 

a  fit  descendant  of  the  Graham  More.  *  Give  me, 
Sire,'  he  said,  '  but  foreign  arms  and  any  aid  from 
Ireland  you  can  procure,  and,  please  God,  strong  in 
my  cause,  I  will  yet  re-animate  Scotland,  and  create 
throughout  that  realm,  and  especially  in  the  loyal 
Highlands,  a  reaction  in  your  Majesty's  favour.' 

Montrose's  offer  was  accepted  by  Charles.  For 
even  while  in  his  heart  the  King  mistrusted 
Hamilton,  he  wavered  when  the  latter  arrived  at 
Oxford,  where  his  Court  was,  and  where,  once  more, 
his  favourite  exerted  his  influence  over  his  unhappy 
master.  Hamilton  was  accompanied  into  Charles's 
presence  by  his  brother,  the  Earl  of  Lanerick. 

They  pretended,  with  great  plausibility,  that  they 
had  been  banished  from  Scotland  for  their  devotion 
to  the  royal  cause,  and  compelled  to  fly  for  their 
lives  ;  the  fact  being,  that  they  had  wilfully  deceived 
the  King,  and  had  been  all  along  in  correspondence 
with  his  enemies. 

Charles,  although  he  mistrusted  them,  received 
them  at  Court,  and  allowed  Lanerick  to  remain 
there.  Montrose's  noble  nature  was  deeply  wounded 
when  he  saw  his  master  once  more  drawn  into  the 
Hamiltons'  net. 

He  begged  Charles  to  allow  him  to  retire  abroad, 
for  he  declared  that  nothing  would  induce  him  to 
stand    by   and   see   the    Hamiltons   once  more  in 


42  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

favour.  The  King  then  reluctantly  forbade  them 
his  presence,  and  Montrose  drew  up  a  protest,  which 
he  prevailed  on  a  great  many  gallant  Scotchmen  to 
sign,  promising,  if  the  Covenanters  invaded  England, 
to  protect  the  King's  cause  at  the  peril  of  their 
lives. 

A  committee  was  appointed  by  the  King  to 
ascertain  the  truth  of  the  charges  brought  against 
the  two  Hamiltons.  Montrose,  Nithsdale,  Aboyne, 
and  Ogilvie  undertook  to  substantiate  the  accusa- 
tions brought  against  them,  and  the  facts  brought  to 
light  induced  even  Charles  to  see  how  treacherously 
both  Hamilton  and  Lanerick  had  acted.  The  crime 
of  garbling  a  letter  of  their  sovereign's  to  induce 
several  leading  noblemen  to  take  up  arms  against 
him,  the  fact  that  Lanerick  had  used  the  privy  seal 
to  a  proclamation  issued  by  the  Covenanters  to  call 
together  the  large  force  now  marching  towards  the 
border,  were  proved,  and  Hamilton  was  arrested  by 
the  King's  command  and  sent  to  the  castle  of  Pen- 
den  n  is. 

Lanerick's  arrest  was  also  ordered,  and  he  was 
to  have  been  imprisoned  in  Ludlow  Castle  ;  but  he 
fled  in  disguise  into  Scotland,  where  the  Presby- 
terians received  him  with  open  arms. 

No  obstacles  now  remained  in  our  hero's  way. 
Charles   hesitated    no    longer,   and    on    the    first   of 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  43 

February  1644  gave  Montrose  a  commission  to  act 
as  Lieutenant-General  in  Scotland  of  all  His  Majesty's 
forces  under  the  Captain-General,  Prince  Maurice  ; 
the  brave  Graham  refusing,  with  the  modesty  of  real 
courage,  to  be  commander-in-chief.  Prince  Maurice 
was  Charles's  nephew ;  being  son  of  that  hapless 
Queen,  Elizabeth  of  Bohemia,  who  had  taken  refuge 
in  England  after  the  loss  of  her  husband  and  king- 
dom. Both  he  and  his  gallant  but  rash  brother, 
Rupert,  fought  bravely  for  the  King,  their  uncle  ;  but 
their  eldest  brother,  Charles,  had  joined  the  Parlia- 
mentary side.  From  their  younger  sister,  Sophia, 
the  Electress,  our  present  dynasty  is  directly  de- 
scended. 

Charles  engaged  the  Earl  of  Antrim  to  land  in 
Argyll  with  ten  thousand  men  of  Ulster  ;  but  beyond 
that,  and  recommending  him  to  the  Marquis  of 
Newcastle,  then  commanding  the  King's  forces  in 
Durham,  he  could  do  nothing  for  Montrose,  not  even 
by  sending  a  handful  of  men  with  him  to  the  border. 
Thus  almost  unattended,  with  the  royal  commission 
in  his  pocket  and  his  sword  by  his  side,  Montrose 
set  off  upon  what  seemed,  but  for  his  resistless 
enthusiasm,  one  of  the  wildest  expeditions  ever 
dreamed  of  by  romantic  youth.  Scotland  was,  if 
not  wholly  disloyal,  so  overawed  by  the  Covenanters, 
that  even  among  those  who  were  still  true  to  their 

D 


44  The  Fiery  Cj'oss  ;  or. 

King,  few  had  the  courage  to  resist  the  tide  of  re- 
bellion, so  steadily  setting  in.  The  Covenanters  had 
entered  into  a  solemn  league  with  the  English  rebels, 
and  had  promised  to  render  them  armed  assistance 
to  enable  them  to  reduce  the  King  to  submission. 

However,  resolute  and  faithful,  and  even  hopeful, 
Montrose  set  out.  He  still  reckoned  on  the  ancient 
loyalty  of  the  Highlands.  In  spite  of  their  disgrace, 
there  was  a  large  party  at  Court  who  still  befriended 
the  Hamiltons,  and  cavilled  at  Montrose ;  and  even 
among  loyal  men,  his  expedition  was  looked  on  as 
too  wild  and  romantic  to  succeed.  He  cared  not, 
however,  but  set  off  with  all  the  high  hopes  of  one 
who  believes  that  he  has  a  mission  entrusted  to  him, 
that  he  must  die  rather  than  not  perform.  The 
Earl  first  met  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle  at  Durham, 
a  county  ever  loyal  to  the  King's  cause,  and  where 
many  a  true-hearted  English  country  gentleman  had 
mortgaged  his  broad  acres  to  raise  men  for  the 
cause.  The  Marquis  of  Newcastle  received  Mon- 
trose kindly.  That  nobleman,  who  had  quitted  the 
quiet  tranquil  country  life  he  loved  to  serve  Charles, 
was  one  who  could  appreciate  our  hero's  character. 

The  Marquis  of  Newcastle  was  as  wise  in  council 
as  he  was  able  in  war,  and  was  respected  by  both 
sides.  He  told  Montrose  that  his  own  position  was 
hazardous  in  the  extreme,  and  that  he  had  no  cavalry 


The  Vow  of  Monti'ose.  45 

to  spare  him  ;  but  the  Earl  persuaded  him  to  give 
him  a  hundred  horsemen,  and  two  field-pieces  ;  and 
Newcastle  promised  to  do  all  that  he  could  for 
Montrose  when  happier  times  should  come.  Those 
fairer  times,  however,  never  came,  as  far  as  Newcastle 
was  concerned.  For,  after  the  battle  of  Marston  Moor, 
and  the  consequent  surrender  of  York,  he  considered 
himself  so  wronged  by  Prince  Rupert,  who  would 
not  listen  to  the  Marquis's  advice,  and  so  lost  that 
battle,  that  he  left  England  in  disgust,  and  threw  up 
his  command  of  Charles's  forces.  However,  that  was 
subsequent  to  Montrose's  interview  with  him  on  his 
road  to  Scotland.  Newcastle  sent  orders  to  the 
officers  of  all  the  King's  forces  in  Cumberland  and 
Westmoreland  to  aid  Montrose  as  far  as  they  could. 
Consequently  he  entered  Scotland  on  the  thirteenth 
of  April,  at  the  head  of  about  eleven  hundred  men, 
and  a  gallant  troop  of  volunteers,  about  two  hundred 
in  number. 

Most  of  Montrose's  troops  were  militia  ;  many  of 
them  raw,  undisciplined,  taken  from  the  plough  to 
fight  for  a  cause  they  were  too  ignorant  to  under- 
stand. Montrose  counted  much  o»  the  Earl  of 
Antrim's  promised  aid. 

Carried  away  by  Montrose's  enthusiasm  at  Oxford, 
Antrim,  who,  though  Irish,  was  also  descended  from 
one  of  .the  noblest  Highland  families,  the  Macdonalds, 


46  The  Fiery  C^'oss ;  or, 

had  been  driven  by  the  rebellious  faction  of  his  own 
country  to  seek  refuge  in  England. 

Ireland  then,  as  now,  was  a  disaffected  country. 
Charles  attempted  to  add  to  the  standing  army  of 
that  kingdom,  trusting  that  the  Irish  would  help  him 
in  suppressing  the  Covenanters ;  but  added  to  the 
rebellion  in  England,  he  had  had  a  very  serious  in- 
surrection to  contend  with  in  Ireland, — a  rebellion 
instigated  by  the  Roman  Catholic  priests,  who 
would  willingly  have  exterminated  the  very  name  of 
England  from  their  language.  By  the  first  of  April 
the  Earl  of  Antrim  had  engaged  to  land  ten  thousand 
Irish  on  the  coast  of  Argyll  that  lay  nearest  to 
Ireland. 

The  first  obstacle  Montrose  met  with  was  a  mutiny 
among  his  north  country  soldiers.  This  was  insti- 
gated by  a  Sir  Richard  Graham  ;  and  though  the 
Scottish  soldiers  who  had  joined  Montrose  did  all 
that  they  could  to  keep  the  band  together,  a  great 
many  of  the  border  men  deserted  the  Cavaliers' 
standard  and  fled  towards  home.  This  mutiny  took 
place  on  the  banks  of  the  Annan.  Daily  expecting 
news  from  Antrim,  who  had  promised  to  send  him  a 
messenger  the  moment  he  landed,  Montrose  was 
bitterly  disappointed,  and  knew  not  how  to  proceed, 
as  day  after  day  passed  and  no  message  came.  He 
received    intelligence   that   the    Covenanters    under 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  47 

Leslie  were  advancing  on  York,  in  order  to  unite 
their  numbers  to  the  English  Parliamentary  army, 
and  that  the  Earl  of  Callandar  (a  renegade  from  the 
King's  cause,  who  had  sworn  that  he  would  never 
join  the  Covenanters)  had  raised  a  second  army  in 
Scotland.  Montrose  knew  they  could  intercept  his 
progress  if  he  attempted  to  go  on  to  Stirling,  which 
his  friends  strongly  urged  his  doing  at  all  risks. 

The  Scottish  Cavaliers  under  Montrose  took  Dum- 
fries, and  erected  the  royal  standard  ;  but  the  Earl 
felt  that  it  were  to  sacrifice  his  cherished  hope  of 
doing  the  King  good  service  if  he  risked  an  encounter 
with  the  Covenanters,  and  therefore  he  retired  to 
Carlisle,  determined  to  fight  for  the  crown  in  the 
north  of  England,  until  he  could  see  some  chance  of 
success  for  it  in  Scotland. 

He  gathered  together  a  few  more  soldiers — a  mere 
handful  of  troops — when  he  and  his  friends  returned 
across  the  border,  and  with  great  gallantry  took 
Morpeth,  captured  a  fort  on  the  Tync,  and  victualled 
Newcastle  with  provisions  procured  from  Alnwick. 

It  took  Montrose  nearly  three  weeks  to  wrest 
Morpeth  Castle  from  the  Covenanters  ;  but  when  the 
keys  of  the  place  were  given  up,  he  treated  the 
garrison  well,  releasing  the  ten  officers  and  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  soldiers,  on  their  giving  him  their 
word  never  to  fiuht  aoain  aijainst  Charles, 


43  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

While  thus  harasshig  the  northern  Covenanters, 
Montrose,  who  about  this  time  was  created  a  Mar- 
quis, received  a  hasty  summons  from  Prince  Rupert 
to  join  him  at  York. 

Long,  however,  before  Montrose  could  join  the 
impetuous  Prince,  the  latter  had  fought  and  lost  the 
battle  of  Marston  Moor.  It  was  not  till  the  day- 
after  the  battle  that  Montrose  came  up  with  Rupert's 
corps,  then  in  full  retreat. 

Struck  with  the  gallant  appearance  of  Prince 
Rupert's  cavalry,  Montrose  implored  the  Prince  to 
give  him  a  troop  to  take  back  into  the  north, 

'  Give  me,'  cried  Montrose,  '  but  a  thousand  of 
those  horsemen,  and  I  will  cut  my  way  into  the  very 
heart  of  Scotland.' 

Prince  Rupert  promised  to  do  so,  but  did  not  keep 
his  word.  He  was  over  persuaded  by  those  who 
only  saw  in  Montrose  an  impetuous  reckless  soldier, 
that  the  venture  was  not  worth  the  risk  of  a  thousand 
horsemen  ;  and  so  the  Marquis  was  told  that  no  aid 
could  be  given  him. 

All  this  time  a  little  gallant  band — the  forlorn 
hope  of  Scottish  loyalty — still  supported  Montrose. 
Two  of  his  friends  he  had  sent  into  Scotland  in 
disguise,  that  they  might  ascertain  who,  among 
those  not  yet  corrupted  by  Argyle's  arts,  would 
support  the  royal  cause  ;  but  several  faithful  friends 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  49 

still  kept  with  him,  when,  leaving  Prince  Rupert,  he 
went  back  to  Carlisle. 

It  required,  however,  more  than  even  the  high 
spirit  of  that  hitherto  undaunted  band  to  hope  on  in 
face  of  the  news  brought  back  to  Montrose  by  Lord 
Ogilvie  and  Sir  William  Rollock.  They  listened  to 
the  narrative  of  all  that  they  had  seen  during  their 
fortnight's  wanderings  in  Scotland,  and  then  came 
the  whisper,  that  in  the  face  of  such  news  the  Mar- 
quis would  be  '  mad  to  proceed  on  his  expedition.' 

The  Scottish  Covenanters  had  long  before  this 
obtained  the  boon,  if  it  were  one,  for  which  they  had 
so  long  striven.  They  were  free  to  practise  their 
religion.  They  had  abolished  Episcopacy,  as  far  as 
the  State  was  concerned,  yet  with  fanatical  zeal  still 
hoped  to  establish  a  uniformity  of  worship  with 
themselves  in  England. 

Charles  they  well  knew  was  warmly  attached  to 
the  Episcopal  form  of  Church  government,  and  the 
Covenanters  dreaded  lest  the  King  by  force  of  arms 
should  re-establish  his  authority,  and  thus  interpose 
an  obstacle  to  the  cherished  idea  of  making  England 
as  Presbyterian  as  Scotland.  They  had  no  charity 
for  those  who  could  not  believe  the  doctrines  of 
Calvin,  and  would  not  unite  in  denouncing  all  pre- 
lates of  the  English  Catholic  Church  as  idolaters. 
Papists,  and  '  malignants,' — a  term  applied  to  those 


50  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

who  would  not  sign  the  Covenant.  The  Scotch  pul- 
pits resounded  with  praises  of  such  as  were  ready- 
to  shed  their  blood,  and  take  up  arms  against  Charles 
the  First. 

The  teaching  of  these  ministers  of  Christianity- 
should  be  peace,  but  the  Presbyterians  of  those  days 
thought  otherwise,  for  they  hurled  malediction  after 
malediction  on  those  few  devoted  men  who  still  re- 
mained true  to  '  Church  and  State.' 

'  Rather  than  sanction,'  cried  the  fanatics,  *  the 
surplice,  the  tippet,  or  the  corner  cap  again  in  our 
country,  we  will  wade  through  rivers  of  blood  to 
gain  a  purer  faith.' 

Such  a  temper  of  mind  in  the  Scots  was  most 
acceptable  to  the  English  Puritans.  They  had  sent 
a  hundred  thousand  pounds  to  help  their  allies  in 
equipping  the  army  already  advancing  far  into 
England.  Not  only  did  the  Scots  thus  support  the 
English  in  their  rebellion,  but  they  seized  every 
castle,  town,  and  port  they  could  lay  hands  upon  in 
Scotland,  levied  large  armies  of  men,  and  called 
upon  all  to  support  the  Covenant.  Nevertheless, 
the  Scotch  as  a  nation  were  loyal  at  heart,  and  in 
many  parts  openly  defied  the  Covenanters.  The 
clergy  had  intimidated  and  misled  many.  Argyle, 
ruling  the  Western  Highlands,  had  disaffected  his 
clan  ;  the  towns  had  succumbed  to  what,  indeed,  was 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  51 

little  short  of  religious  mania  ;  but  the  Gordons,  the 
men  of  Athol,  Mar,  Badenoch,  Lochaber,  and  others, 
still  believed  in  the  Church,  and  were  faithful  to  their 
King. . 

Such  were  the  tidings  brought  by  the  two 
cavaliers  sent  by  Montrose  to  ascertain  who  were 
and  who  were  not  likely  to  support  him,  if  he  could 
but  succeed  in  getting  into  those  portions  of  the 
Highlands  still  faithful  to  the  royal  cause. 

Montrose  summoned  all  his  friends  to  a  council. 
He  knew  that  among  the  number  there  was  one,  the 
Earl  of  Traquair,  who,  though  honoured  and  trusted 
by  Charles,  was  at  heart  a  traitor.  Well  did  Mon- 
trose know  how,  when  the  Cavaliers  had  begun  to 
waver  and  be  cast  down  at  the  gloomy  news  reported 
them,  Traquair  had  done  all  he  could  to  induce 
those  who  up  to  that  time  had  adhered  to  Mon- 
trose to  join  the  Covenanters. 

There  is  no  foe  so  insidious  as  a  false  friend. 
Montrose  would  have  liked  to  have  openly  de- 
nounced Traquair  as  a  traitor  ;  but  he  restrained  his 
anger,  and  met  his  friends  calm,  stedfast,  and  un- 
moved. His  handsome  face  was  sad  but  resolute  in 
its  noble  expression,  as  he  heard  first  one  and  then 
the  other  advise  him  to  abandon  so  hopeless  a 
cause. 

Many  urged  him  to  retire  abroad  and  send  his 


5  2  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

commission  back  to  the  King,  telling  him  that  as 
Antrim  had  failed  him,  he  had  no  possible  prospect 
of  success. 

After  hearing  all  that  his  friends  could  urge,  our 
hero,  as  undaunted  and  fearless  as  ever,  declared 
that  they  were  free  if  they  chose  to  abandon  him ; 
but  '  as  for  me,'  he  continued,  *  I  will  never  despair. 
My  King  is  in  danger,  and  I  will  never  forsake  him. 
If  I  cannot  succeed,  I  will  perish  ! ' 

Yet  in  spite  of  the  spirit  with  which  Montrose 
spoke,  most  of  those  who  listened  to  him  remained 
unconvinced.  It  is  so  hard  to  hope  against  ruin 
staring  one  in  the  face. 

Most  of  Montrose's  listeners  were  devoted,  as 
only  Scotch  people  can  be,  to  the  cause  of  their 
King.  Many  were  descended  from  those  who,  on 
the  great  battle-fields  of  Scotland,  had  shed  their 
blood  for  his  ancestors  ;  but  'without  arms,  men,  or 
money,'  they  argued,  'how  can  such  a  desperate 
cause  succeed .'' ' 

Seeing  all  their  doubts  and  fears  written  in  their 
grave  looks  and  downcast  eyes,  Charles's  devoted 
champion  conceived  a  daring  plan.  He  confided  it 
to  only  one  person — his  friend  Lord  Ogilvie.  He 
told  the  Cavaliers  that  they  had  perhaps  some  justice 
on  their  side ;  but  that,  as  for  him,  he  was  de- 
termined to  trust  in  God,  and  carry  out  his  resolu- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  53 

tion  ;  only,  before  doing  so,  he  would  lay  the  state 
of  the  case  before  the  King,  and  beg  him  to  give 
them  aid  with  men  and  arms. 

The  little  band,  which  by  this  time  had  fallen  off 
to  about  a  hundred  men,  accordingly  started  off 
towards  Oxford,  where  the  King  still  held  his  Court. 
All  believed  that  Montrose  intended  accompanying 
them  thence.  Such,  however,  was  far  from  the  Mar- 
quis's intention.  Two  days  after  they  had  left  Car- 
lisle, Montrose  secretly  slipped  away,  and,  accom- 
panied by  only  two  companions,  rejoined  Lord 
Aboyne. 

Lord  Aboyne  was  a  Gordon,  and  one  of  Lord 
Huntly's  family,  who  had  never  quite  forgiven  Mon- 
trose his  want  of  faith  to  that  nobleman  when  the 
former  was  fighting  for  the  Covenant.  The  Marquis 
counted  much  on  the  loyal,  brave,  and  trusty  Gor- 
dons, and  therefore  he  told  his  plans  to  Aboyne. 
Montrose,  however,  found  him  so  lukewarm  that  he 
ceased  to  urge  his  co-operation,  and  advised  him  to 
remain  quietly  at  Carlisle  till  he  heard  how  the 
scheme  he  had  formed  should  succeed. 

Every  pass  and  glen  in  his  native  land  was  well 
known  to  our  hero ;  but  the  difficulty  was,  how  he 
and  his  two  friends  should  pass  the  border,  along 
which  the  Covenanters  had  placed  large  bodies  of 
men. 


54  ^^^  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

It  was  in  the  month  of  August  that  the  Marquis, 
in  company  with  Sir  William  Rollock  and  an  officer 
named  Sibbald,  set  off.  Montrose,  disguised  as 
Sibbald's  groom,  rode  on  a  very  miserable-looking 
horse,  leading  another  by  the  bridle.  It  was  diffi- 
cult, however,  to  disguise  his  natural  majesty  and 
demeanour,  as  the  result  proved.  They  were  riding 
along  when  they  met  a  man-servant  of  that  Sir 
Richard  Graham  who  had  instigated  the  mutiny  of 
the  Marquis's  men  at  Annan.  The  man,  deceived  by 
their  conversation, — for  Montrose  had  served  quite 
long  enough  with  the  Covenanters  to  be  able  to 
imitate  their  canting  phraseology, — grew  very 
friendly  with  them.  He  directed  them  on  their  road, 
supposing  all  the  time  that  they  were  Scotchmen 
hastening  to  join  General  Leslie,  who  was  watching 
that  part  of  Scotland  for  Argyle's  party. 

He  also  told  them  that  his  master.  Sir  Richard 
Graham,  had  openly  declared  for  the  Covenanters. 
You  can  imagine  with  what  feelings  the  three 
travellers  heard  that  the  knight  had  promised  to 
give  any  '  malignants,'  as  those  loyal  to  Charles 
were  called,  up  to  the  general  for  immediate  execu- 
tion. 

However,  such  a  fate  was  not  yet  intended  for 
Montrose.  Their  next  adventure  was  even  more 
alarming.     They  met  a  soldier  walking  along,  who 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  55 

had  served  under  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle,  and  who 
recognised  Montrose  and  addressed  him  by  name. 

The  Marquis  turned  away,  and  appeared  not  to 
have  noticed  his  salutation. 

*  My  lord,'  said  the  soldier,  '  you  cannot  deceive 
me.  No  lacquey  ever  rode  as  you  do.  I  know  my 
Lord  of  Montrose  well  enough  ;  but  go  your  way, 
and  may  God  bless  you  wherever  your  way  may 
lead  you.' 

Montrose  gave  the  man  some  money,  and  then 
hurried  on.  He  knew  that  if  he  were  betrayed,  not 
only  would  he  meet  with  no  mercy  for  his  loyal  con- 
duct to  the  King,  but  that  the  Covenanters  would 
make  a  dangerous  use  of  the  papers  he  had  with 
him.  Hurrying  on  at  their  utmost  speed,  till  their 
weary  horses  were  almost  dropping  with  fatigue,  the 
three  travellers,  after  three  perilous  days'  travelling, 
arrived  on  the  fourth  at  Tullicbclton,  a  large  pro- 
perty close  to  the  Grampian  Hills,  in  Perthshire,  and 
not  far  from  the  calm,  noble  river,  the  Tay,  belong- 
ing to  Montrose's  cousin,  Patrick  Graham  of  Inch- 
brakic.  Under  his  roof  Montrose  was  not  only  safe 
but  welcome.  There,  however,  he  dared  not  remain 
long,  for  the  Covenanters  had  spies  all  over  the 
country  ;  and  the  Marquis  knew  that  as  soon  as  they 
heard  he  was  in  Scotland,  Inchbrakie's  house  would 
be  suspected  of  harbouring  him. 


56  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or. 

He  therefore  hid  away  among  the  hills  during 
the  day-time,  returning  to  Tulliebelton  at  night- 
fall, where  Patrick  Graham  concealed  him  in  a 
neighbouring  hovel.  His  two  friends,  disguised  as 
ordinary  clansmen,  set  off  to  learn  the  state  of  the 
country. 

They  came  back  with  a  grievous  tale.  The 
tyranny  of  the  Covenanters,  they  reported,  kept 
the  entire  kingdom  in  a  state  of  terror.  The  whole 
authority  of  Scotland  was  then  vested  in  an  order 
founded  in  1638,  that  of  Four  Tables.  These  four 
tables  consisted  of  the  nobility,  gentry,  clergy,  and 
burgesses.  The  Covenant  had  been,  as  it  were, 
their  eldest  child,  for  the  first  act  of  this  new  order 
had  been  its  production.  None  dared  openly  con- 
demn this  state  of  public  afifairs.  If  they  were  so 
rash,  they  but  too  often  paid  the  penalty  with  their 
lives,  or  property ;  often  being  heavily  fmcd,  or  im- 
prisoned. 

The  Marquis  eagerly  inquired  what  course  the 
Marquis  of  Huntly  had  adopted. 

He  sorrowfully  learnt,  from  their  reply,  how  the 
head  of  the  gallant  Gordons  had  laid  down  his 
arms,  and  had  fled  into  Caithness.  The  Gordons, 
meanwhile,  being  left  completely  without  a  leader^ 
were  greatly  depressed,  and  the  whole  state  of  the 
Royalists  most  deplorable. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  57 

The  Marquis  of  Huntly's  son  had  joined  the 
Covenanters ;  so,  even  if  the  Gordons  had  been 
incHned  to  join  Montrose,  they  had  no  leader,  and, 
although  as  loyal  as  ever,  were  completely  dispirited. 

Montrose,  still  undaunted,  hoped  on.  He  knew 
that  in  that  portion  of  the  Highlands  influenced  by 
the  MacCaileam  Mor,  the  Highlanders  were  so  over- 
awed by  Argyle,  that  an  appeal,  if  made,  would  be 
worse  than  useless  ;  so  he  determined  to  call  upon 
the  '  Redshanks,'  as  certain  independent  clans  were 
named. 

In  this  resolution  he  was  strangely  confirmed  by 
an  incident  that,  to  his  enthusiastic  mind,  seemed 
almost  like  a  direct  message  from  Heaven. 

After  the  return  of  Sir  William  Rollock  and 
Sibbald  from  their  expedition,  dispirited  and  anxious, 
though  undaunted,  Montrose  wandered  one  day 
over  the  hills  and  moors  around  Inchbrakie.  At 
last,  at  nightfall,  he  repaired  to  Methven  wood,  and 
seating  himself  on  a  stone  near  the  hut  where  he 
intended  passing  the  night,  he  gave  way  to  a  trans- 
port of  grief. 

His  fine  figure  was  enveloped  in  a  Highland 
plaid  ;  and  his  cousin  Patrick  Graham  watched  him 
bury  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  heard  him  declare 
that  his  heart  was  breaking  to  see  his  native  land  so 
enslaved  by  fanatics  and  ambitious  nobles 


58  The  Fie7y  Cross  ;  or, 

His  eyes  were  filled  with  tears,  as,  raising-  them 
first  towards  heaven  and  then  towards  the  moun- 
tains, he  cried  with  passionate  earnestness — 

'  Be  merciful,  Lord,  to  my  country  !  Remove  the 
curse  under  which  it  lies,  and  enable  me  to  be  the 
unworthy  means  of  saving  it  ! ' 

Montrose  had  scarcely  ejaculated  these  words, 
when  down  a  woodland  path,  above  the  mountain 
spot  where  the  cavaliers  were  seated,  a  red  deer, 
startled  from  its  lair,  bounded  along. 

Up  sprang  the  cavaliers.  Was  it  a  traitor,  they 
thought,  as  they  could  just  discern  a  figure  descend- 
ing the  pathway. 

The  stranger  was  no  traitor,  but  a  Highlander 
in  full  Gaelic  garb,  armed  at  all  points.  His  face 
was  stern  and  pale,  and  he  looked  very  weary,  as 
well  he  might,  for  he  had  traversed  high  mountains, 
brooks,  and  rivers,  to  bear  to  the  clans  the  tidings  of 
war,  by  means  of  a  Jicrj'  cross,  which  he  carried  aloft 
in  his  right  hand. 

The  symbol  of  religion  was  seamed  and  scathed 
at  every  point  with  fire  !  It  was  a  summons  from 
Allaster  Macdonald,  who  had  just  landed  in  the 
Highlands,  to  all  the  clans  to  follow  the  King's 
lieutenant,  '  under  pain  of  fire  and  sword  !  * 

'  What  news  .-* '  demanded  Montrose,  who  believed 
that  now  had  come  an  answer  to  his  prayer.     The 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  59 

answer  was  brief.  The  Highlander  was  carrying 
the  summons  to  all  the  loyal  clansmen  of  Perthshire. 

You  remember  that  the  Earl  of  Antrim,  four 
months  before,  had  promised  Montrose  to  bring  him 
aid  from  Ireland  ;  and  how  also  it  had  seemed  to 
fail  our  hero.  Some  Highland  shepherds  had  told 
Montrose  that  they  had  heard  of  the  '  Irish '  who 
had  landed  in  the  mountains  ;  but  he  had  given 
small  credence  to  their  tale. 

This,  then,  was  the  promised  aid,  Montrose  and 
his  friends  decided,  when  the  Highlander  had  passed 
on.  They  were  speedily  more  fully  enlightened, 
when  soon  afterwards  a  near  neighbour  of  Inch- 
brakie's — a  'safe'  man,  as  those  loyal  to  King 
Charles  were  called — told  them  '  that  he  had  under- 
taken to  deliver  some  important  State  letters  to  the 
Marquis  of  Montrose,  who  was  at  Carlisle  ! ' 

Inchbrakie  could  not  help  laughing  in  his  sleeve, 
when  he  reflected  that  not  three  hundred  yards 
away  was  the  very  person  his  friend  was  going  to 
seek  ;  but  in  those  disturbed  times  it  did  not  do  to 
be  too  confidential.  He  therefore  merely  promised 
to  give  them  to  Montrose,  '  even,'  he  added,  '  if  I 
go  on  purpose  to  Carlisle.' 

That  very  evening  Montrose  eagerly  scanned  the 
letters,  all  of  which  breathed  a  spirit  of  resolute 
daring.    Allaster,  or  Alexander,  a  Scot  by  birth  and 


6o  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

descent,  had  landed  with  about  twelve  hundred  men 
on  the  Ardnamurchan  coast,  in  the  Western  High- 
lands. 

The  news  of  the  arrival  of  this  little  army  soon 
came  to  Argyle's  ears.  Although  but  a  handful  of 
ill-armed  recruits,  the  Scotch  dictator  was  ordered 
to  go  and  rout  them  out  of  the  mountains. 

Argyle's  first  step  was  to  destroy  the  ships  that 
Allaster  had  brought  over  from  Ireland.  When  the 
latter  found  that  he  could  not,  even  if  he  would, 
re-embark,  he  swore  vengeance  against  those  ancient 
foes  of  his  clan,  the  false  Campbells. 

He  laid  waste  the  land  that  lay  between  the 
Ardnamurchan  coast  and  Kintail,  and  harassed  the 
Campbells  ;  but  very  few  Highlanders  obeyed  his 
call,  for  he  was  no  mighty  chief  to  invoke  enthu- 
siasm by  his  name  and  presence.  The  want  of  a 
leader  was  very  apparent,  and  deterred  many  from 
following  him,  although  the  Highlanders  were 
warmly  attached  to  the  royal  cause.  Those  who 
did  go  were  principally  men  of  Badenoch  ;  and 
Allaster's  hopes  fell  when  he  found  that  the  chief 
of  the  Mackenzies,  the  Earl  of  Seaforth,  though  a 
Royalist  at  heart,  had  been  induced  by  the  influence 
of  family  ties  to  declare  for  the  Covenanters. 

The  desertion  of  Seaforth  implied  that  none  of 
the   brave    Mackenzies   would    take    up    arms    for 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  6i 

Charles;  for  the  clan,  of  course,  went  with  their 
chieftain  ;  and  though  the  cross  of  fire  had  been 
taken  far  and  wide,  charging  all  to  fight  in  defence 
of  the  King,  there  was  but  small  prospect  of  success, 
till  Montrose  received  the  letters. 

He  replied  to  them  at  once,  and  bid  all  who  loved 
the  royal  cause  to  meet  him  on  a  certain  day  in  the 
Athol  country. 

There  seemed  magic  in  Montrose's  very  name. 
When  Allaster  Macdonald  told  his  men  that  ere 
long  our  hero  would  be  with  them,  they  shouldered 
their  muskets,  and  grasped  their  clubs  and  broad- 
swords with  renewed  spirit ;  and,  led  by  their  general, 
they  marched  toward  Blair  in  Athol,  which  they 
took  on  their  way  to  the  given  rendezvous. 

The  Highlanders  of  Athol,  real  descendants  of 
the  Caledonian  Gael,  were  devoted  to  Montrose. 
On  their  devoted  attachment  to  his  person  our  hero 
counted,  when  he  bid  Allaster  await  him  in  the 
Athol  country.  They  would  not  have  risen  in  arms 
for  the  Allaster ;  but  when  Montrose  appeared, 
there  was  no  lack  of  sturdy  clansmen  to  answer  to 
his  appeal. 

The  appointed  day  and  hour  arrived  ;  and  the 
Irish  brigade,  and  those  Highlanders  who  had  joined 
them,  assembled  on  a  plain  near  Blair  Athol. 

They   had    been   told    that    Montrose   bore   the 


62  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

King's  commission,  and  were  therefore  unprepared 
to  see  coming  along  the  valley  only  two  High- 
landers. Montrose  and  his  cousin  stood  in  their 
midst  before  they  well  knew  he  was  near  at  hand. 
Astonished,  they  inquired  : 

*  Can  that  be  he  who  is  to  save  us  from  destruc- 
tion ?  That  simple  mountaineer  the  mighty  chief- 
tain we  have  expected  ? ' 

Still  more  astonished  were  the  Irish  to  witness 
the  enthusiasm  of  the  clansmen. 

'  Come  every  hill  plaid,  and  true  heart  that  wears  one  ; 
Come  every  steel  blade,  and  strong  hand  that  bears  one  !' 

They  were  ready  to  cry,  '  to  fight  for  Montrose,'  as 
they  greeted  the  Graham. 

'  All  would  now  be  well,'  cried  the  Highlanders. 
'  He  was  there,  all  would  be  now  well  !  We  will 
chase,'  cried  they,  '  false  MacCaileam  Mor  back  to 
his  lair  ;  he  shall  know  that  we  revenge  the  burning 
of  our  ships  !  We'll  compell  him  to  repent  his 
defiance  of  the  King's  authority.' 

Again  and  again  the  plain  near  Blair  Athol 
resounded  with  those  Gaelic  cheers. 

Those   few    Macdonalds   who   were   there   raised 

their  war-cry — 

'  My  son,  my  son,  quicken  thy  liand 
And  harden  thy  blows.' 

Thus  did  Macdonald's  little  armv  welcome  Mon- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose,  63 

trose.  Though  he  came  among  them  with  no 
outward  sign  of  power,  his  greeting  was  as  hearty 
as  had  he  headed  all  his  sovereign's  bufFcoats. 

Our  hero  lost  no  time  in  inaction.  He  at  once 
set  off  southward  from  Blair  Athol,  his  spirits 
greatly  raised  by  a  number  of  Highlanders  joining 
his  standard  just  as  he  commenced  his  march. 

The  men  of  Athol  were  all  loyal  to  King  Charles, 
and  had  only  waited  to  take  up  arms  in  his  cause, 
till  they  saw  the  Irish  headed  by  a  leader  of  note 
and  fame.  As  their  number  was  upwards  of  eight 
hundred,  Montrose  looked  upon  this  addition  to  his 
force  with  no  little  satisfaction. 

On  marched  he  and  his  clansmen,  armed  with  mus- 
kets, pikes,  and  broadswords,  till  they  came  to  the 
Castle  of  Weeme,  in  the  country  of  the  Menzieses. 
There  Montrose  halted  to  give  a  severe  lesson  to  its 
owners,  and  to  strike  terror  into  his  enemies'  hearts. 
He  burnt  the  houses  and  wasted  the  corn  fields  of 
that  clan.  The  Menzies  had  large  possessions  in 
the  Perthshire  Highlands,  and  had  sorely  harassed 
the  rear  of  Montrose's  army,  although  he  had  sent  a 
message  of  truce  to  the  Castle  of  Weeme.  Mon- 
trose's cousin,  Patrick  Graham  of  Inchbrakie,  pre- 
ceded the  band,  as  an  advanced  guard. 

This  gallant  Highlander  was  much  beloved  by 
the  Athol  men,  so  that  when  Montrose  bade  him 


64  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

select  the  nimblest  of  their  number  for  scouts,  there 
was  no  lack  of  volunteers.  The  value  of  so  faithful  a 
leader  was  soon  shown  in  Inchbrakie's  alacrity,  for 
he  brought  back  word  that  a  large  body  of  men  had 
been  seen  on  the  hillside  at  Bucknith.  They  turned 
out  to  be  friends  in  the  guise  of  foes,  for  they  were 
Highlanders  commanded  by  Lord  Kilpont,  son  of 
the  Earl  of  Menteith,  who  had  been  ordered  by  the 
Scottish  Government  to  arm  all  his  clansmen  against 
Montrose. 

The  young  Earl  had  so  far  obeyed  his  orders,  as 
to  gather  together  about  five  hundred  of  his  re- 
tainers, as  well  as  several  of  the  men  of  Keir  and 
Napier.  In  his  heart,  however,  he  had  no  desire 
to  fight  for  the  Covenanters.  Two  of  Montrose's 
greatest  friends,  the  Master  of  Maderty  and  Sir 
Colin  Drummond,  were  with  Lord  Kilpont.  When 
they  heard  that  the  force  of  'malignants'  they  had 
been  charged  to  crush  were  commanded  by  Mon- 
trose, they  needed  but  slight  inducement  to  join  him 
and  his  clansmen. 

The  party  Kilpont  sent  to  negotiate  readily 
listened  to  the  arguments  of  Montrose  in  favour  of 
a  cause  that  might  be  but  a  losing  one,  but  which, 
urged  he,  was  that  of  honour  and  renown  : 

*  Its  watchword  was  honour,  its  pay  was  renown. ' 

The  party  under  Lord  Kilpont  joined  Montrose; 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  65 

and,  thus  augmented, — his  army  now  numbering 
about  three  thousand, — hurried  eagerly  forward  to 
strike  the  first  blow  for  the  royal  cause.  But  their 
enemies  were  more  than  double  him  in  strength. 
All  the  cavalry  Montrose  could  boast  were  three 
miserable  horses,  one  of  which  was  appropriated  to 
Sir  William  Rollock,  who  had  been  lame  from  child- 
hood. Arrayed  against  him  was  a  powerful  body 
of  seven  hundred  horsemen  and  six  thousand  foot 
soldiers,  well  appointed  and  well  armed,  with  four 
pieces  of  field  artillery.  The  Covenanters  awaited 
him  at  Perth.  Argyle  was  pursuing  him,  although 
some  days'  march  behind. 

To  Perth  Montrose  determined  to  go,  and  if 
possible  venture  a  pitched  battle  before  the  false 
MacCaileam  Mor  should  come  up  with  him  and  his 
Redshanks. 

The  Earl  of  Elcho  commanded  the  Covenanters, 
and  led  them  out  to  the  plain  of  Tippermuir,  beyond 
the  fair  town  of  Perth.  Confident  in  the  superiority 
of  their  numbers,  they  awaited  Montrose.  Victory, 
they  thought,  must  surely  be  theirs  ;  for,  in  addition 
to  their  superior  numbers,  they  were  led  to  battle  by 
many  a  gallant  chief ;  and  the  clergy  who  accom- 
panied the  army  declared  '  that  God  would  not  fail 
to  give  them  victory.'  The  Earl  of  Elcho  com- 
manded the  right  flank.  Sir  James  Scott — an  officer 


66  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

who  had  greatly  distinguished  himself  abroad — the 
left,  and  the  Earl  of  Tullibardine  the  main  body 
of  the  Covenanters.  In  order  to  enclose  the  gallant 
little  army,  advancing  so  pluckily  to  meet  them, 
they  were  drawn  out  into  one  long  line,  with  horse- 
men at  each  wing.  Montrose's  eagle  eye  discerned 
and  provided  against  his  adversary's  tactics.  He 
marshalled  his  men  three  deep,  and  desired  the  first 
rank  to  fire  kneeling,  the  second  bending,  and  the 
third  standing.  He  placed  himself  in  the  post  of 
danger,  opposite  Sir  James  Scott's  left  flank. 

Thus  drawn  up,  the  two  armies  could  measure 
each  other's  strength. 

Before  beginning  the  fight,  Montrose  sent  a  flag 
of  truce  to  Lord  Elcho,  with  a  message  commanding 
them  in  the  King's  name,  and  his  own,  to  surrender; 
declaring  that  the  thought  of  shedding  his  country- 
men's blood  was  odious  to  him,  and  that  he  wished 
'  his  victories  might  be  written  without  a  single  red 
letter.' 

The  Covenanters,  certain  of  success,  returned  no 
reply  ;  but  they  sent  young  Drummond,  who  bore 
the  message,  into  Perth,  threatening  to  behead  him 
when  the  battle  was  over. 

The  conflict  began  between  a  few  of  Lord  Elcho's 
horsemen  and  some  of  Montrose's  Highland  scouts. 
But   before   a    drop    of  blood   was   shed   the   hero 


The  Vow  of  MoJttrose.  67 

addressed  his  little  army.  He  walked  along  the 
ranks  of  those  devoted  men,  not  one  of  whom  but 
would  have  died  for  him. 

'  Clansmen,'  said  he,  his  flashing  eye  scanning  the 
whole  length  of  his  line,  '  you  have  but  few  arms, 
while  yonder  soldiers  have  plenty.  But  there  are 
stones  on  this  moor  ;  let  each  one  of  you  beat  out 
the  brains  of  the  first  canting  Covenanter  he  meets, 
and  seize  his  sword  ! ' 

With  a  great  rallying  cry  his  advice  was  followed. 
The  horsemen  were  driven  back  by  the  desperate 
courage  of  the  Redshanks  ;  and  the  stones  hurled  at 
the  foe  were,  as  it  turned  out,  their  most  formidable 
weapons.  In  vain  Elcho's  artillery  discharged  their 
cannon.  Hclter  skelter  fled  his  army  that  so  short 
a  time  before  had  blasphemously  called  itself  the 
*  army  of  God  ;'  and  Montrose,  without  the  loss  of  a 
single  man,  had  routed  the  Covenanters.  Victory 
was  his,  and  all  his  enemy's  cannon,  baggage,  tents, 
and  arms  fell  into  his  hand.  His  Highlanders 
pursued  the  flying  foe ;  and  on  the  very  evening 
of  the  fight  Montrose  entered  the  prosperous  city 
of  Perth.  The  loss  on  the  Covenanters'  side  was 
very  great ;  and  besides  the  prisoners  taken  by  the 
clansmen,  when  Montrose  entered  Perth  he  found 
about  eight  hundred  Fife  men,  whom  he  imprisoned 
till  they  solemnly  swore  never  again  to  bear  arms 


68  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

against  the  King, — an  oath  which,  in  spite  of  the 
reHgious  superiority  laid  claim  to  by  their  party, 
many  did  not  hesitate  to  break  as  soon  as  Montrose 
was  out  of  sight. 

He  treated  the  citizens  of  Perth  very  clemently, 
hoping  to  win  them  to  his  sovereign's  cause.  He 
compelled  them,  however,  to  pay  a  fine,  and  to 
entertain  himself  and  his  followers  for  the  three 
days  they  remained  in  the  city.  Montrose  did  not 
remain  long  in  Perth.  A  few  gentlemen  of  dis- 
tinction joined  him  when  the  battle  of  Tippermuir 
had  shown  them  how  gallant  a  leader  they  would 
have  in  Montrose.  But  our  hero  noted  with  gloom 
and  amazement  how  small  were  their  number  in 
comparison  with  those  who,  excited  by  fanatic  zeal, 
upheld  the  rebellious  blue  banner  of  the  Scottish 
Covenant.  The  Earl  of  Kinnoul  was  among  the 
number  of  those  who  joined  the  Scottish  Cavaliers. 
Added  to  this  disappointment,  Montrose,  after  the 
battle  of  Tippermuir,  found  himself  deserted  by 
large  bodies  of  clansmen  ;  not  because  they  had  any 
intention  of  abandoning  one  to  whom  they  were  so 
attached,  but  because  it  was  a  Highland  custom  to 
retire  with  spoil  acquired  in  a  battle  ;  and  the  Athol 
men  were  eager  to  take  their  booty  home,  while 
Montrose  would  fain  have  followed  up  his  success 
by  another  conflict. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  69 

Argyle,  he  heard,  was  marching  rapidly  on  him, 
joined  by  a  southern  army,  alarmed  at  the  seizure  of 
Perth ;  and  our  hero,  when  he  measured  his  own 
resources  by  the  standard  of  the  MacCaileam  Mor's 
large  force,  felt  that  he  dared  not  remain  in  Perth  to 
meet  his  powerful  foe. 

Accordingly  quitting  Perth,  he  led  his  men  across 
the  River  Tay,  to  a  place  called  Cupar  in  Angus, 
where  they  encamped  on  the  site  of  what  had  once 
been  a  famous  monastery.  He  was  joined  by  Sir 
Thomas  Ogilvie  and  several  others  of  the  Angus 
gentry ;  but  a  terrible  event  took  place  the  very 
next  day  in  our  hero's  camp,  that  dashed  all  the 
joy  that  his  success  at  Tippermuir  had  excited  in 
his  bosom. 

John,  Lord  Kilpont,  who  had  joined  Montrose, 
had  incurred  the  anger  of  the  Covenanters  by  doing 
so.  They  chose  as  their  instrument  of  revenge  a 
Highlander  named  James  Stewart  of  Ardvoirlich, 
who  plotted  how  to  put  a  diabolical  deed,  planned 
by  his  crafty  head,  into  execution. 

It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  baser  deed.  Lord  Kil- 
pont was  a  most  accomplished  scholar,  soldier,  and 
gentleman.  Stewart  was  his  vassal,  whom  Kilpont 
had  admitted  to  the  closest  intimacy.  The  latter 
had  even  shared  his  tent  with  Stewart  at  Cupar, 
little  dreaming  that  beneath  his  plaid  there  lay  so 


70  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

close  to  him  a  dark  designing  villain.  Yet  so  it 
was.  Early  next  morning,  Stewart,  taking  Kilpont 
aside,  revealed  to  his  astonished  ears  a  horrible  plot. 
The  young  lord,  so  above  crime  that  he  could 
scarcely  understand  even  its  existence,  started  back 
when  Stewart  told  him  that  he  intended  to  assas- 
sinate Montrose,  and  then,  escaping  to  the  Cove- 
nanters' army,  claim  a  large  reward.  Knowing  that 
Lord  Kilpont  loved  him,  the  base  wretch  tried  to 
influence  him  to  join  in  the  plot. 

The  horror  depicted  on  Kilpont's  face  as  he 
listened,  convinced  James  Stewart  that  his  patron 
and  friend  must  not  live  to  betray  him.  No  thought 
of  former  benefits  or  kindnesses  stayed  his  hand. 
Suddenly  turning  upon  Lord  Kilpont,  he  stabbed 
him  to  the  heart ;  and  then,  favoured  by  the  gloom 
of  the  early  morning,  fled  to  Argyle,  who,  to  his 
disgrace,  raised  him  to  a  good  post  in  his  army. 
When  Montrose,  hurriedly  aroused  by  the  noise  of 
a  great  tumult  in  the  camp,  rushed  out,  he  found 
his  friend's  lifeless  body  lying  prone  upon  the 
heather,  stained  by  the  bright  red  blood  of  his 
noble  heart. 

Montrose's  grief  knew  no  bounds.  He  embraced 
those  cold,  pale  cheeks,  so  lately  full  of  life,  and 
pressed  his  friend's  sad  lips,  whose  last  utterance  had 
been  a  repudiation  of  violence  and  treachery  I 


The  Vow  of  Montrose,  71 

The  bards  of  his  clan  wailed  over  his  dead  body, 
and  told  of  his  deeds  of  valour  as  they  bore  it  back 
to  his  tent,  and  prepared  a  bier  to  carry  it  home. 
Turning  away  with  heavy  sighs  and  tears,  Montrose 
left  his  clan  to  sing  the  coronach  over  their  chief- 
tain's body.  The  murderer  had  escaped,  and  there 
was  nothing  left  but  to  give  the  body  a  fitting 
funeral.  In  order  to  do  this,  nearly  four  hundred  of 
Lord  Kilpont's  clan  quitted  Montrose.  That  was  a 
terrible  loss  to  him,  because  the  Athol  men  had 
already  left  Montrose.  In  spite  of  being  joined  by 
a  number  of  brave  gentlemen,  the  news  that,  in 
addition  to  the  army  commanded  by  Argyle,  a 
large  force  of  northern  Covenanters  had  assembled 
at  Aberdeen,  headed  by  Lord  Burleigh,  greatly 
damped  the  spirits  of  the  Cavaliers.  Yet  Montrose 
did  not  hesitate;  and  on  the  nth  of  September 
1644,  he  marched  down  upon  Aberdeen,  and  pre- 
pared to  give  Lord  Burleigh  battle. 

First  of  all,  Montrose  sent  a  flag  of  truce  bidding 
the  town  to  surrender.  The  citizens  returned  no 
reply  to  a  missive  from  one  whom  they  had  once 
opposed  as  a  Covenanter,  and  now  resisted  as  a 
Royalist. 

Once  Montrose  had  marched  into  Aberdeen, 
bearing  the  colours  of  a  party  to  which  he  had 
been  true  as  loner  as  he  believed  that  the  motive  of 


72 


The  Fiery  Cross. 


their  resistance  to  the  King  was  pure  and  good. 
Now  he  bore  attached  on  his  plaid  a  ribbon  of 
red  hue  ;  and  yet,  strange  to  say,  he  was  not  the 
only  one  of  that  host  who  had  changed  sides. 


^    f     (*'  oip 


CHAPTER  III. 

'  News  of  battle  !  news  of  battle  ! 
Hark  !  'tis  ringing  down  the  street. 
And  the  archways  and  the  pavement 
Bear  the  clang  of  hurrying  feet ! ' 


-Aytoun. 


HEN  the  good  burghers  of  Aberdeen  found 
Montrose  so  close  to  them,  they  were 
thoroughly  dismayed.  By  a  wonderful 
turn  of  fortune,  the  political  position  of  their  fair  city 
had  changed  greatly  since  they  and  the  Marquis 
had  last  met. 

Four  or  five  years  before,  the  Aberdeen  burghers, 
loyal  to  King  Charles,  had  resisted  that  enforced 
submission  to  the  Scottish  Covenant  which  Mon- 
trose, then  a  Covenanter,  had  forced  them  to  yield 
at  the  point  of  the  sword. 

In  1644,  the  Marquis  returned  to  find  the  once 
loyal  citir.ens  Covenanters,  while  he  himself,  having 
become  a  Cavalier,  was  daring  and   planning   the 


74  T'y^^  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

most  venturesome  deeds  for  the  sake  of  a  monarch 
whom  once  he  had  deemed  a  tyrant  ! 

The  clan  Gordon  also,  who  in  1639  had  been  so 
devotedly  loyal,  had  now,  as  it  were,  enlisted  on 
the  other  side,  although  still  at  heart  true  to  King 
Charles.  A  clan  is  bound  to  fight  under  the  banner 
supported  by  its  chief,  and  the  Marquis  of  Huntly 
had  neither  forgotten  nor  forgiven  Montrose's  ap- 
parent want  of  good  faith  towards  himself  when 
the  latter  had  led  him  as  a  prisoner  to  Edinburgh. 
Thus  the  greatest  blemish  on  our  hero's  shield, 
the  greatest  stain  upon  his  fame,  was  the  means, 
humanly  speaking,  of  his  ultimate  fate !  Had  the 
Gordons  fought  from  the  first  side  by  side  with  the 
Grahams,  perchance  the  tale  of  the  great  Scottish 
civil  wars  might  have  been  a  very  different  one  to 
that  recorded  by  history. 

Lord  Lewis  Gordon,  a  fair  knightly  youth,  and 
Huntly's  third  son,  had  raised  his  father's  clan  in 
defence  of  the  Covenant,  although  in  1639  the 
young  chieftain  had  headed  an  enterprise  for  King 
Charles. 

Montrose's  plan  was  to  engage  Burleigh's  army 
before  Argyle  could  come  up  with  him  ;  though 
with  that  discretion  which  is  said  to  be  the  better 
part  of  valour,  the  great  MacCaileam  Mor  seemed 
to  linger  behind,  and  to  be  in  no  haste  to  overtake 


The  Vow  of  Monh'ose.  75 

his  expeditious  rival.  When  Montrose  found  his 
message  disregarded  by  the  enemy,  he  determined 
to  fight.  Unequal  indeed  were  the  numbers  of  the 
belhgerents.  Lord  Burleigh  headed  a  force  of  two 
thousand  foot  soldiers  and  five  hundred  cavalry ; 
while  Montrose,  for  the  time  deserted  by  the  Athol 
men,  who  had  gone  home  with  their  booty,  could 
only  muster  fifteen  hundred  men  and  forty-four 
horsemen. 

The  battle  commenced  between  Montrose's  right 
flank  and  the  Gordons,  headed  in  person  by  Lord 
Lewis.  Rash,  though  valiant,  as  became  his  name, 
Lord  Lewis  Gordon  charged  his  foe  with  his  horse- 
men. 

He  was  met  with  desperate  courage  by  the  Red- 
shanks. Their  valour,  aided  by  twenty  horsemen 
despatched  to  their  help  by  their  vigilant  general 
the  moment  that  he  noted  the  Gordons'  onset,  was 
crowned  with  success.  The  Gordons  fled  before 
those  half-armed  but  devoted  clansmen,  who,  yelling 
out  their  war-cries,  would  fain  have  pursued  their 
flying  foe  ;  but  their  brave  leaders  prudently  held 
their  impetuosity  in  check.  The  result  proved  that 
they  were  fortunate  in  their  prudence.  The  enemy's 
right  flank,  of  well-tried  horsemen,  charged  Mon- 
trose's right  wing. 

The  Marquis   at   the  very  moment  of  their  ad- 


76  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

vance  was  crying  out  to  those  among  his  men  who 
were  engaged  against  Gordon's  force :  '  To  close 
quarters,'  cried  he,  '  and  give  no  quarter  to  traitors ! 
on  at  them  with  your  broadswords  and  the  butt-end 
of  your  firearms ;  spare  none  who  have  planned 
treachery  and  treason  ! '  He  saw  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost.  He  rallied  his  horsemen  and  sent 
them  to  the  aid  of  his  left  flank.  The  horsemen 
attacked  the  enemy's  rear  ;  and,  inspired  by  their 
leader's  words,  the  Redshanks,  with  desperate  valour, 
beat  back  the  foe : 

'  Nor  victory  could  desert  a  tand  so  brave  ! ' 

Montrose  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the 
enemy's  right  flank  as  fully  routed  as  their  left ; 
and  no  longer  restraining  his  men,  the  Highlanders 
rushed  after  their  flying  foes  up  the  streets  of  Aber- 
deen, soon  strewn  with  heaps  of  dead  bodies. 

In  the  height  of  the  battle  one  poor  fellow  of 
Montrose's  army  had  both  his  legs  shot  off  by  a 
cannon  ball.  His  companions  paused  for  a  moment 
in  dismay.  The  sufferer  was  an,  Irishman,  and  he 
recovered  his  spirits  in  a  moment. 

*  What  are  you  halting  for,  brave  comrades  } ' 
cried  he  ;  '  it's  the  fortune  of  war !  In  future,  I'll 
fight  on  horseback.' 

After  a  loud  cheer  this  Irish  Spartan  severed  his 


The  Voiu  of  Montrose.  77 

leg  from  his  body  with  his  own  claymore.  *  Bury 
that,'  cried  he,  '  with  the  dead ! '  Montrose  took 
good  care  to  promote  such  a  hero. 

Montrose  did  not  rest  long  at  Aberdeen  ;  for  he 
heard  that,  besides  Argyle's  army,  the  Covenanters 
had  sent  a  large  force  from  the  border,  commanded 
by  Lord  Callander,  to  assist  the  MacCaileam  Mors 
troops.  He  therefore  marched  to  a  village  named 
Kintore,  ten  miles  distant  from  Aberdeen.  From 
this  place  Sir  William  Rollock  undertook  to  set  off 
to  Oxford,  the  bearer  of  despatches  to  Charles,  in 
which,  after  telling  him  of  his  victorious  career,  he 
implored  the  King  to  send  him  supplies  of  men  and 
arms. 

The  Marquis's  great  hope  lay  in  the  Gordons, 
whom  he  still  trusted  would  join  him.  He  had 
stationed  himself  at  Kintore,  w'ith  an  especial  view 
to  their  repairing  to  his  little  army.  Bitter,  indeed, 
was  his  disappointment  when  he  found  how  re- 
solutely that  clan  kept  aloof  Finding  that  the  fear 
of  offending  their  chief,  Huntly,  had  more  influence 
with  the  Gordons  than  their  attachment  to  the  royal 
cause,  our  hero,  hiding  his  heavy  baggage  and  guns 
in  a  bog,  determined  to  lead  his  followers  up  into 
the  mountains.  His  own  knowledge  of  the  High- 
lands was  great ;  and  he  counted  on  being  better 
able  to  defy  Argyle's  superior  numbers  in  those  im- 


'j^  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

pregnable  passes  than  in  a  less  mountainous  dis- 
trict. 

From  Kintore  the  Cavaliers  marched  to  Inverury  ; 
and  three  days  after  they  had  left  it,  the  Covenanters 
entered  Aberdeen. 

Argyle's  first  act  on  entering  the  city  was  to  issue 
a  proclamation,  offering  twenty  thousand  pounds 
to  any  one  who  would  produce  Montrose,  dead  or 
alive.  Highland  fidelity,  however,  was  as  strong 
in  that  century  as  when,  a  hundred  years  later,  a 
royal  fugitive  trusted  it  not  in  vain  ;  no  bribe  was 
large  enough  to  tempt  those  faithful  clansmen  ;  no 
reward  was  large  enough  to  make  them  betray  one 
who  had  trusted  in  their  honour. 

Montrose  intended  to  cross  the  River  Spey.  This 
river  is  very  wide  and  large,  and  one  of  the  most 
rapid  in  Scotland,  as  its  name,  indeed,  denotes — 
'  spey  '  being  derived  from  a  word  meaning  'activity' 
or  'force.'  It  runs  through  a  wild  mountainous 
district,  almost  inaccessible  except  to  those  who, 
like  Montrose  and  his  Redshanks,  could  endure  the 
fatigue  of  hasty  marches  over  rugged  hills,  with  but 
scanty  fare  to  cheer  the  way. 

Montrose  reached  the  banks  of  the  Spey  at  the 
point  where  he  intended  to  cross  over,  only  to  find 
arrayed  against  him  a  body  of  five  thousand 
Covenanters  in  battle  array,  ready  to  attack  him 


The  Vow  of  Monti'ose.  79 

and  his  handful  of  men  should  they  dare  to  attempt 
its  passage.  To  do  so  would  have  been  madness 
and  certain  death ;  so  Montrose  turned  aside  on  his 
course,  and  following  the  bent  of  the  river,  went  into 
Badenoch. 

The  fatigue,  anxiety,  and  disappointments  our 
hero  had  undergone  now  told  upon  him.  He  fell 
dangerously  ill,  and  although  secure  for  the  moment 
in  a  strong  fortress,  his  devoted  clansmen  for  some 
days  anxiously  watched  their  beloved  leader's  sick- 
bed. 

The  rumours  of  his  illness  reached  the  Covenanters, 
and  public  thanks  were  offered  up  for  what  the 
preachers  termed  '  a  great  deliverance  ! ' 

It  was  openly  announced  by  the  Presbyterian 
clergy  that  '  the  Lord  had  slain  Montrose  ; '  and  no 
greater  proof  of  his  prowess  can  be  given  than  the 
joy  felt  at  the  report  of  his  death. 

Montrose,  however,  recovered,  and  the  hopes  of 
the  Covenanters  fell  to  the  ground.  Even  while  on 
a  bed  of  sickness  he  had  planned  how  he  could  de- 
feat his  powerful  enemy  Argyle.  He  determined 
to  leave  no  stone  unturned  to  add  to  his  numbers, 
sohe  sent  Allaster  Macdonald  with  a  large  party  of 
Irish  to  the  Western  Highlands  ;  when,  as  soon  as 
he  was  sufficiently  recovered,  he  crossed  the  Gram- 
pians and  reappeared  again  in  Blair  Athol  early  in 


So  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

October.  He  took  possession  of  an  old  castle  there 
called  Fyvie,  and  awaited  Macdonald's  return, 
Montrose  had  abandoned  his  cherished  hope  of  help 
from  the  Gordons,  but  anxiously  expected  Mac- 
donald  to  return,  believing  that  the  latter  would  not 
fail  to  bring  fresh  recruits  from  the  Western  High- 
lands. 

Montrose  reposed  great  faith  in  Allaster  Mac- 
donald,  or  'Colkeitoch'  as  he  was  familiarly  called, 
— meaning,  '  Coll  of  the  left  hand.' 

Although,  in  the  eyes  of  the  Highlanders,  Mac- 
donald's pedigree  was  not  lofty  enough  to  entitle 
him,  when  he  first  landed,  to  lead  them  to  battle 
for  the  royal  cause,  he  was  of  gentle  birth,  his 
father.  Colonel  Macdonald,  being  settled  on  the 
island  of  lona,  in  the  Western  Highlands. 

During  Colkeitoch's  absence,  Montrose  tried  to 
harass  his  enemy's  troops  and  weaken  their  re- 
sources by  a  species  of  warfare  very  similar  to  that 
of  the  'free  lances'  of  modern  times. 

He  had  no  cavalry,  but  his  men  were  so  active 
and  light-footed  that  they  thought  nothing  of 
marching  eight  or  nine  miles  at  night  to  surprise 
the  enemy.  Montrose  often  returned  from  such 
expeditions  not  only  laden  with  spoil,  but  some- 
times fortunate  in  having  taken  several  prisoners. 

This  kind  of  predatory  warfare  excited  just  the 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  8i 

feelings  that  Montrose  intended  it  to  do.  With 
fifteen  hundred  men  he  thus  contrived  to  intimi- 
date a  great  tract  of  country,  and  to  inspire  it  with 
the  idea  that  he  was  resistless. 

Such  was  the  rapidity  of  our  hero's  movements, 
that  his  enemies  constantly  believed  that  he  was 
near  them,  and  on  the  point  of  being  taken,  when 
he  and  his  Redshanks  were  perhaps  miles  off,  far 
beyond  their  reach. 

In  the  meantime,  Argyle,  though  supposed  to  be 
in  active  pursuit  of  Montrose,  had  never  actually 
confronted  him  in  battle.  Although  with  relentless 
cruelty  destroying  all  the  live  stock  and  crops  of 
those  who  had  joined  Montrose,  Argyle  still  kept 
far  behind.  The  Covenanting  Government  even 
murmured  at  the  slowness  of  their  favourite's  move- 
ments, although  they  affected  to  scoff  at  the  success 
of  the  Marquis. 

His  victories,  the  Presbyterian  clergy  affected  to 
believe,  were  only  'permitted  for  a  season;'  for,  with 
unflinching  belief  in  their  own  cause,  they  claimed 
for  Argyle's  army  the  privilege  of  being  'the  soldiers 
of  God.'     Strange  fanaticism  ! 

The  moment,  however,  was  rapidly  advancing 
when  Argyle  should  meet  Montrose  in  battle. 
Strange  to  say,  the  Covenanters  had  crossed  the 
Grampians,    and    were    within    two    miles    of   the 


82  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

Royalists'  little  army  before  their  scouts  brought 
word  of  the  enemy's  approach. 

What  was  he  to  do  ?  His  rival's  army  numbered 
nearly  four  thousand  strong, — a  fourth  of  whom 
were  horsemen,  commanded  by  Lord  Lothian,  while 
our  hero,  in  Macdonald's  absence,  could  barely  mus- 
ter half  that  number ;  besides  which,  his  men  were 
almost  destitute  of  arms  and  ammunition. 

One  moment's  hesitation  as  to  his  course  was 
followed  by  prompt  decisive  action.  He  disdained 
the  idea  of  fortifying  himself  in  Fyvie  Castle,  and 
determined  to  meet  Argyle,  but  not  on  the  plain. 
He  knew  that  on  level  land  the  number  of  his 
enemy's  men,  and  the  superiority  of  well-armed 
and  disciplined  troops  against  his  volunteers,  who 
were,  after  all,  only  raw  recruits,  would  tell  against 
him ;  so,  drawing  his  sword,  he  led  the  way  in 
person  to  a  lofty  hill  above  the  castle,  where  he 
disposed  his  Highlanders  to  the  best  advantage  he 
could  in  the  face  of  an  enemy  rapidly  climbing  up 
the  uneven  sides  of  the  mountain. 

The  hill  was  rough,  and  divided  by  little  mounds 
thrown  up  by  those  who  had  lately  tilled  the  land. 
Montrose  saw  those  hedges  and  ditches  would  be 
useful  as  rude  fortifications  for  his  men.  The  top 
of  the  hill  was  thickly  wooded.  While  disposing 
his   men  on   its   summit,  he  saw  two   things   that 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  8 


J 


might  well  have  daunted  him.  He  saw  the  few 
Gordons  who  had  joined  him  deserting  his  side  as 
soon  as  they  discovered  among  Argyle's  com- 
manders Lord  Huntly's  two  sons.  He  noted  also, 
that,  owing  to  the  desperate  courage  with  which 
they  fought  their  way,  several  Covenanters  had 
seized  hold  of  the  very  ditches  and  fences  he  had 
counted  upon  as  posts  for  his  own  troops. 

The  greater  part  of  Montrose's  men  were  utterly 
dismayed  by  the  turn  that  fortune  seemed  to  be 
taking.  Had  he  hesitated  for  a  moment,  he  would 
have  soon  found  himself  entirely  abandoned.  Rais- 
ing his  voice,  he  implored  the  Redshanks  to  remem- 
ber their  previous  victories,  and  not  to  be  dismayed 
at  the  smallness  of  their  numbers. 

His  words  arrested  the  flight  of  his  men,  and 
they  were  greatly  encouraged  by  the  firmness  with 
which,  turning  to  a  brave  Irishman  named  O'Ryan, 
Montrose,  as  calmly  as  if  it  were  an  everyday 
matter,  bid  him  go  and  rout  out  the  Covenanters 
who  had  taken  possession  of  the  ditches. 

'Go,  O'Ryan,'  cried  Montrose,  'take  a  handful  of 
men,  and  drive  me  those  fellows  out  of  yonder 
ditches,  that  we  may  be  no  more  plagued  with 
them !' 

The  brave  O'Ryan  executed  the  order  as  calmly 
as  it  was  given  ;    and   the   Covenantors,   dislodged 


84  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

from  the  ditches,  were  soon  flying  in  wild  dis- 
order. 

The  Redshanks  returned  in  triumph  to  Montrose, 
bringing  back  several  bags  of  gunpowder  abandoned 
by  the  Covenanters. 

This  episode  told  greatly  for  Montrose.  Half  a 
general's  battle  and  cause  are  won  when  his  men 
are  confident  of  success;  and  Montrose  saw  to  his 
delight  how  his  Redshanks  cheered  O'Ryan  and 
his  victorious  little  party  when  they  rejoined  their 
friends. 

The  men,  pleased  with  their  prize,  jested  about  it 
among  themselves. 

'  Pity,'  cried  one,  as  he  handed  a  powder-bag, 
'there  were  not  bullets  as  well!  Faith,  we  must 
fetch  them  in  another  bout !' 

Montrose  had  stationed  his  fifty  men  at  the  top 
of  the  hill.  Seeing  that  Lord  Lothian  was  advanc- 
ing at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of  cavalry,  the 
Marquis  of  Montrose  directed  those  of  his  foot  who 
had  guns,  to  fire  at  them  while  they  were  riding 
across  a  field  that  lay  between  the  rival  forces. 
The  volley  scared  the  Covenanting  cavalry,  who 
turned  round  and  beat  a  hasty  and  disorderly 
retreat. 

The  Redshanks  were  delighted  at  this  second 
victory;    but   Montrose  was  compelled  to  restrain 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  85 

their  ardour,  by  telling  them  to  wait  his  commands 
before  engaging  their  enemies  in  another  con- 
flict. 

The  evening  shadows  were  falling  across  the  hill 
on  which  our  hero  had  made  so  brave  a  resistance, 
when  Argyle  thought  prudent  to  retrea*-  for  the 
night ;  but  knowing  the  Marquis's  proneness  to 
sudden  surprises,  he  made  all  his  men  sleep  under 
arms,  and  bid  his  scouts  keep  a  good  look-out. 

From  his  spies  he  learned  that  Montrose  was 
dreadfully  embarrassed  for  want  of  ammunition. 
That  was  indeed  the  case ;  and  so  great  was  his 
want  of  bullets,  that  his  men  were  compelled  to 
forage  among  the  neighbouring  farm-houses  for 
metal  with  which  to  cast  them. 

The  supply,  nevertheless,  ran  very  short  of  the 
demand  ;  but  the  Cavaliers,  by  their  resolute  man- 
ner, deterred  the  enemy  from  making  any  further 
attempt  to  disperse  Montrose's  ill-armed  band. 

Argyle  retreated  nightly  across  a  neighbouring 
river  ;  and  Montrose,  availing  himself  of  a  dark 
night  towards  the  end  of  October,  returned  to  his 
former  position  at  Strathbogie,  where  he  awaited 
Allaster  Macdonald's  return. 

That  place  belonged  to  Lord  Iluntly,  and  its 
pleasant  parks  proved  better  quarters  for  the  Red- 
shanks than  the  wild  heather-covered  hills  around 


S6  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Fyvic.  Argyle,  after  one  or  two  ineffectual  attempts 
to  engage  Montrose  on  level  land,  proposed  a  truce, 
and  determined  to  try  by  treacherous  policy  to 
vanquish  his  foe. 

In  spite  of  Argyle's  promise  of  protection  should 
he  trust  himself  to  a  personal  conference,  Montrose 
resolutely  refused  all  offers. 

Too  noble  to  dissimulate,  our  hero  made  no  secret 
of  his  intention  to  retreat  into  Badenoch,  where  he 
knew  he  could  defy  his  rival. 

Many  of  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  who  had 
joined  the  royal  standard  were  Lowlanders,  to 
whom  the  idea  of  wintering  among  bleak  hills  was 
little  short  of  appalling.  Argyle  worked  by  his 
secret  agents  on  their  fears  of  such  a  hard  campaign. 
He  told  them  that  if  they  submitted  to  him  now,  he 
would  not  only  procure  for  them  a  full  pardon,  but 
also  promotion  and  favours.  The  bait  so  artfully 
held  out  took  with  almost  all  the  Lowland  lairds. 

Thus  Montrose,  day  after  day,  saw  some  one  of 
his  party  desert  his  camp  and  go  over  to  the  enemy, 
and  soon  had  the  additional  pain  of  seeing  Colonel 
Sibbald  join  the  deserters.  The  hardships  of  a 
Highland  winter  in  prospect,  joined  perhaps  to  a 
feeling  that  against  a  whole  nation's  will  the  struggle 
would  be  but  vain,  daunted  all  except  the  Earl  of 
Airlie  and  his  two  sons,   Sir   Thomas   and   David 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  87 

Ogilvie.  They  alone,  among  the  many  false  friends, 
stood  true  to  the  royal  cause. 

Among  those  who  went  over  to  Argyle  was  one 
Nathaniel  Gordon.  His  aim,  however,  in  going, 
was  to  try  and  persuade  Lord  Lewis  Gordon  to  join 
the  royal  side.  Montrose  was  in  the  secret,  and 
how  he  succeeded  we  shall  hear  later  on. 

Argyle  set  a  price  on  Montrose's  head,  hoping 
that  some  simple  soldier  of  his  little  army  might  be 
tempted  to  betray  him.  Not  one  was  found  base 
enough  to  sell  his  brave  leader's  life.  When,  how- 
ever, Montrose  found  how  many  Lowland  gentlemen 
had  deserted  him,  he  felt  compelled,  in  order  to 
effect  a  safe  retreat  for  himself  and  his  men,  to 
resort  to  a  subterfuge. 

Afraid  that  those  who  had  gone  over  to  Argyle 
might  betray  his  plans,  he  feigned  to  have  suddenly 
altered  his  intention  of  wintering  in  the  Highlands. 
He  ordered  his  men  to  recall  the  baggage  already 
sent  on,  and  to  prepare  for  a  battle  on  the  following 
day.  He  drew  them  up  in  battle  order,  and  Argyle 
began  to  think  that  his  new  friends  had  misled  him. 
After  four  days  spent  in  thus  misleading  the  Cove- 
nanters, Montrose  marched  his  men  off  by  night, 
and  before  Argyle  even  knew  of  his  intention,  he 
and  his  faithful  Redshanks  were  on  their  way  across 
mountains  thick  with  snow,  and  along  wild  tracks 


88  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

of  country  untenanted  save  by  deer  and  wild  game, 
towards  the  braes  of  Athol.  Argyle  having  failed 
to  perform  his  promise  of  dispersing  the  *  malig- 
nants,'  and  destroying  Montrose,  was  compelled  to 
return  to  Edinburgh.  He  tried  to  excuse  the  igno- 
minious way  in  which  he  had  conducted  the  cam- 
paign by  boasting  of  his  'bloodless  victories;'  but 
while  some  were  misled  by  his  plausible  statements, 
there  were  many  disgusted  at  the  want  of  courage 
he  had  shown,  while  the  bravery  of  Montrose  shone 
all  the  more  brightly  by  contrast. 

There  is  nothing  so  convincing  as  success.  Men 
began  to  believe  that  there  must  be  more  good  than 
they  had  before  believed  possible  in  a  cause  sup- 
ported by  one  so  noble  as  the  illustrious  Graham, 
and  those  who  endured  hardships  with  so  much 
devotion.  They  contrasted  his  self-sacrificing  cha- 
racter with  that  of  the  MacCaileam  Mor ;  and  the 
royal  cause  once  so  openly  scoffed  at,  began  to 
receive  more  forbearance  and  respect  even  amongst 
its  enemies.  Men  began  to  discuss  the  question 
more  fairly,  and  a  growing  moderation  towards  the 
Cavaliers  was  the  result. 

Scarcely  had  the  Marquis  and  his  men,  after 
a  toilsome  march,  reached  Badenoch,  than  a  faith- 
ful messenger  brought  news  of  Argyle's  move- 
ments. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  89 

The  treacherous  Covenanter  had  marched  to 
Dunkeld,  in  the  heart  of  the  Athol  country,  with  a 
view  to  persuading  the  Cavaliers  to  abandon  the 
royal  cause. 

The  city  of  Dunkeld  was  memorable  as  having 
been  once  the  capital  of  ancient  Caledonia, — '  the 
stronghold  or  fortress  of  the  Gael'  Lying  in  the 
middle  of  the  Athol  country,  it  served  Argyle's 
purpose  well,  when  he  was,  with  all  the  speciousness 
of  his  crafty  nature,  bent  on  corrupting  the  fidelity 
of  its  clansmen. 

Dunkeld  had  been  once,  so  it  is  said,  the  abode 
of  St.  Columba,  when  he  migrated  from  Scotia 
(Ireland)  and  Christianized  Alban  (Scotland).  This 
celebrated  Saint  first  converted  a  powerful  monarch 
named  Bruidhi,  who  bestowed  on  his  deliverer  from 
heathenism  the  island  of  lona,  that  had  belonged 
to  the  Druids,  who  were,  as  you  of  course  know, 
heathen  priests.  St.  Columba  founded  a  famous 
monastery  at  lona,  and  he  and  its  abbots  have 
Christianized  all  Alban. 

It  was  probably  partly  owing  to  the  religious 
influence  of  the  place  that  round  its  picturesque 
city  the  clansmen  were  devotedly  loyal.  Indeed, 
devotion  to  their  kings,  from  the  earliest  period  to 
the  later  times,  characterized  the  whole  district. 

Montrose,  when  told  of  Argyle's  position,  deter- 


90  The  Fie7'y  Cross ;  or, 

mined  to  defeat  his  plans.  He  turned  back  with 
his  usual  rapidity,  and  was  within  sixteen  miles  of 
his  rival  before  the  latter  had  even  heard  of  his 
approach.  Argyle  immediately  retired  into  Perth- 
shire, and  Montrose  lost  the  opportunity  of  decid- 
ing the  contest  between  the  two  rival  parties  by  a 
decisive  battle.  Baffled  in  his  projected  attack  on 
the  Covenanters,  Montrose  summoned  a  council  of 
war.  Allaster  Macdonald  had  rejoined  him  at  Blair 
Athol ;  and  while  waiting  in  that  great  vale  to  glean 
tidings  of  his  faithful  Colkeitoch,  the  heroic  Marquis 
was  rewarded  for  his  confidence  in,  and  devotion 
to,  the  royal  cause  by  the  former's  reappearance, 
accompanied  by  a  numerous  band  of  the  Clan- 
ranalds,  some  of  the  Camerons  and  Stewarts  of 
Appin — in  all,  a  very  considerable  number. 

In  the  midst  of  the  lovely  scenery  of  that  part 
of  Scotland,  within  sight  of  high  mountains,  rocks, 
and  heaths,  whose  very  names  reminded  the  Red- 
shanks of  battles  lost  and  won  by  their  ancestors, 
Montrose  solemnly  consulted  those  who  had  thus 
bravely  sided  with  a  falling  cause. 

Amid  those  grand  scenes  each  man  spoke  freely. 
One  feeling  animated  all  breasts  as  each  chief  and 
chieftain  spoke  in  that  council  of  war. 

That  feeling  was  hatred  of  the  Campbells  ;  for  that 
clan,  so  powerful,  so  imperious,  and  so  grasping,  had 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  91 

ruined  many  who  that  day  ranged  round  Mon- 
trose. 

The  clan  '  Diarmid  of  the  Boar '  were  the  heredi- 
tary enemies  of  the  Macdonalds. 

The  Marquis  was  in  favour  of  wintering  with  his 
troops  in  the  Lowlands,  in  order  to  be  more  certain 
of  obtaining  provisions  for  his  army  ;  but  one  daring 
voice  suggested  'that  to  avenge  all  their  many 
wrongs  on  Argyle,  no  place  for  the  Redshanks  were 
better  chosen  than  Argyle' s  own  country^ 

The  hills  resounded  again  and  again  with  applause 
at  a  proposal  which  also  well  suited  Montrose's 
daring  soul.  'The  MacCaileam  Mor  should  see 
that  those  whom  he  termed  "malignants"  could 
harass  him  even  where  his  own  influence  was 
highest ! '  '  They  would  show  him  how  the  Scottish 
Cavaliers  could  fight  for  honour  and  revenge ! ' 

The  die  was  cast,  and  it  was  decided  that  Argyle 
should  be  harassed  in  his  own  land  and  among  his 
own  clan. 

The  Lowlands  were  strongly  garrisoned,  and  Pres- 
byterian to  the  backbone,  so  the  decision  was  a  wise 
one.  The  next  question  was,  how  could  the  army 
be  fed  in  that  wild  peninsular  district } 

To  answer  this  question  Montrose  singled  out  of 
the  group  of  excited  Highlanders  around  him  one 
Angus  Macdonald  of  Glencoe. 


92  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

The  clansman  whom  he  addressed  was  well  known 
as  a  good  marksman  and  soldier,  to  whom  every 
inch  of  the  ground  was  familiar. 

'  I  know,'  said  he,  *  every  farm  under  MacCaileam 
Mor,  and  every  inch  of  his  country.  If  good  water, 
plenty  of  houses,  and  fat  kine  will  do  for  you,  there 
are  plenty  to  be  had.' 

The  jMarquis  no  longer  hesitated.  Secure  of  food 
for  his  brave  men,  he  determined  to  march  straight 
into  Argyleshire. 

He  divided  his  army  into  three  bands.  One,  led 
by  himself,  marched  from  the  braes  of  Athol  by  the 
head  of  Loch  Tay  into  Argyleshire,  while  Allaster 
Macdonald  and  John  of  Moidart  led  the  two  others 
by  different  roads  towards  the  same  goal.  The 
Redshanks,  with  cruel  fidelity,  kept  their  vow  of 
vengeance.  As  they  marched  on  they  ravaged  the 
whole  country,  burning  the  dwellings,  eating  or 
destroying  the  herds  of  sheep  and  cattle,  and  in  the 
short  space  of  six  weeks,  from  the  13th  of  December 
1644  to  January  1645,  ^^^^  unfortunate  inhabitants 
of  Argyleshire  suffered  all  the  horrors  of  war  in  its 
worst  form. 

The  party,  guided  on  their  way  to  vengeance  by 
John  of  Moidart,  surpassed  those  led  by  Montrose 
and  Macdonald  in  the  cruelties  they  inflicted  on  all 
whom  they  met 


The  Vozu  of  Mont7'ose.  93 

In  their  ardour  for  revenge,  they  stopped  not  to 
inquire  who  were  innocent  or  who  were  guilty.  All 
were  Campbells,  and  all  were  to  die !  The  whole 
country  was  burnt  and  ravaged,  and  695  persons 
were  put  to  death  by  those  remorseless  men.  There 
was  no  deed  of  cruelty  or  violence  ever  practised  by 
the  Campbells  that  was  unrevenged  ;  and  laden  with 
spoil — for  on  one  foray  as  many  as  a  thousand  head 
of  cattle  were  seized — the  Highlanders  marched 
on  to  Inveraray. 

What  was  the  MacCaileam  Mor  about,  and  why 
did  he  allow  this  rapid  attack  on  his  country  }  He 
was  living  in  his  own  castle  of  Inveraray,  making 
great  efforts  to  enlist  his  clan,  and  busied  with  the 
arrangements  for  a  meeting  he  had  summoned  from 
far  and  near  of  all  the  Campbell  tribe. 

He  had  been  told,  but  had  scoffed  at  the  very 
idea  of  the  Marquis's  invasion  of  his  territory. 

While  he  was  living  quietly  in  his  strong  castle, 
flattering  himself  no  enemy  could  possibly  find  out 
the  secret  of  those  rocky  passes  that  securely 
guarded,  as  he  imagined,  his  native  land  (for  he 
was  accustomed  to  say  that  they  were  impregnable, 
*  nor  would  he  have  them  known  for  a  hundred 
thousand  crowns'),  an  enemy  whom  he  fondly 
believed  far  distant  was  rapidly  advancing ;  and 
it  was  not  till  Montrose  was  actually  within  two 


94  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

miles  of  his  fortress  that  the  MacCaileam  Mor 
realized  his  danger. 

He  learned  his  danger  from  the  cowherds  of  the 
neighbouring  hills.  In  fear  and  trembling  they  told 
their  great  chieftain  of  his  rival's  vicinity. 

No  thought  of  his  defenceless  clansmen,  no  pity 
for  those  on  whom  his  own  cruel  deeds  had  recoiled 
with  such  fearful  severity,  stayed  the  cowardly  chief. 
Leaving  his  clan  to  their  fate,  he  escaped  in  a  fish- 
ing boat  on  Loch  Fyne,  and  fled  into  the  Lowlands. 
He  went  to  Dumbarton,  and  met  a  body  of  troops 
hastily  recalled  by  the  Edinburgh  Government  from 
England  to  aid  in  quelling  this  formidable  insurrec- 
tion. When  once  more  in  a  place  of  safety,  Argyle 
boasted  of  his  intention  of  leaving  no  stone  unturned 
till  he  had  crushed  Montrose.  In  conjunction  with 
General  Baillie,  he  drew  up  a  scheme  which  was 
destined  to  destroy  the  Cavaliers. 

At  the  head  of  a  force  of  about  three  thousand 
men,  Argyle  was  to  pursue  Montrose,  while  Baillie, 
leading  another  force,  was,  by  making  a  detour,  to 
encounter  the  Marquis's  advanced  guard,  and  thus 
by  hemming  him  in  on  both  sides  prevent  his 
escape  in  any  direction. 

Lord  Seaforth  and  the  Erasers  were  on  the  Cove- 
nanters' side,  and  would  therefore  guard  the  north, 
near  Inverness. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  95 

Argyle's  clan  were  beginning  to  despise  his  mili- 
tary prowess,  while  his  character  for  personal 
courage  had  sorely  suffered  from  his  precipitate 
.flight  from  Inveraray.  In  order  to  inspire  his  fol- 
lowers with  confidence,  the  crafty  Lord  recalled  his 
brave  cousin  Sir  Duncan  Campbell  of  Auchinbreck 
from  Ireland,  by  dint  of  whose  reputation  as  a 
soldier  Argyle  recovered  his  lost  ground  with  his 
own  clan. 

Montrose,  in  the  meantime,  was  reaping  the  fruits 
of  the  character  for  bravery  that  he  had  acquired ; 
his  name  inspiring  terror  throughout  Argyllshire. 

To  obtain  a  name  as  one  who  was  invincible, 
the  naturally  kind-hearted  Montrose  had  permitted 
the  cruelties  that  for  several  weeks  his  relentless 
followers  practised  on  the  Campbells,  That  con- 
duct cannot  be  defended  even  by  his  warmest 
admirers. 

The  vengeance  wreaked  so  unmercifully  on  the 
women  and  children  of  their  enemies  is  a  great 
stain  on  the  memory  of  Montrose.  Although  sup- 
ported by  those  whose  motives  for  doing  so  were 
strongly  influenced  by  hatred  of  the  Campbells, 
Montrose  had  probably  but  little  choice  in  the 
matter,  and  was  compelled  to  permit  many  wanton 
cruelties. 

Fortunately  for  the  King's  little  army,  the  season 


96  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

had  been  remarkably  good.  Had  Montrose  and 
his  men  had  to  endure  the  hardships  of  snow  and 
cold,  the  sequel  to  his  enterprise  might  have  been 
very  different.  Had  Argyle,  too,  but  possessed  the 
ordinary  courage  of  his  race  and  stood  his  ground, 
Montrose  would  have  scarcely  escaped  ;  for  to  those 
who  knew  the  mountain  passes  of  Argyllshire,  it 
was  indeed  a  matter  of  surprise  that  the  Mac- 
Caileam  Mor  had  attempted  no  resistance.  Such 
was  the  nature  of  that  mountainous  tract,  a  hun- 
dred men,  commanded  by  a  brave  leader,  had  kept 
all  their  foes  at  bay. 

Montrose  was  by  no  means  in  ignorance  of  his 
enemy's  schemes  for  his  destruction. 

His  scouts  brought  him  word  at  Loch  Ness, 
where,  after  leaving  Argyllshire,  he  had  quartered 
himself,  that  the  Earl  of  Seaforth,  although  by  no 
means  unfriendly  to  the  King's  cause,  had  enlisted 
a  large  body  of  men  against  him,  and  was  awaiting 
him  at  Inverness. 

Montrose,  although  his  own  little  army  barely 
numbered  fifteen  hundred  men,  determined  to 
attack  Seaforth's  larger  force  at  Inverness.  So  he 
marched  towards  that  city  through  the  valley  of 
Albin. 

On  his  road  he  was  overtaken  by  a  Highlander, 
Ian    Lorn   Macdonnell,   a   celebrated   bard   of    the 


Montrose  receives  important  intelligence. — Page 

97 


98  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Keppoch  family.  He  hastened  to  Montrose,  and 
bid  him  Hsten  to  his  tale. 

*  The  great  MacCaileam  Mor,'  said  the  breathless 
bard,  'pursues  thee!  He  is  followed  by  his  tribe, 
and  many  other  Highlanders.  He  is  ravaging  South 
Lochaber,  and  burning  down  every  house  he  comes 
to,  and  boasts  that  he  will  return  to  tell  the  tale  of 
thy  destruction  1' 

Montrose  flushed  with  surprise  and  indignation. 
He  refused  to  believe  the  tale. 

'  He  dares  not  pursue  me  through  Lochaber,'  he 
cried.  After  pondering,  however,  a  few  minutes,  he 
summoned  the  chiefs  of  his  army  to  a  conference. 
They  agreed  with  him*in  thinking  the  tale  impro- 
bable ;  but  that  were  it  true,  Montrose's  only  course 
was  to  desist  from  his  projected  attack  on  Inverness, 
and  to  double  back  upon  his  foe. 

Although  at  first  incredulous,  after  a  little  reflec- 
tion Montrose  began  to  believe  the  bard's  tale  as 
consistent  with  the  idea  that  Argyle  would  fain 
entrap  him  by  coming  up  in  the  rear,  while  the 
vanguard  of  his  army  were  engaged  in  battle  with 
Seaforth's  powerful  troops,  most  of  whom  were  well- 
disciplined  soldiers  from  the  Inverness  garrison. 

Sternly  directing  the  clansmen  around  him  to 
bind  the  messenger  with  stout  cords, — 'for,'  said 
Montrose  to  Ian  Lorn,  'if  your  news.  Sir  Bard,  be 


The  Vow  of  Montj^ose.  99 

false,  you  shall  be  shot  at  the  head  of  the  column,' 
— he  turned  round  to  find  his  way  over  the  wild 
mountain,  in  order  that  Argyle  might  gain  no 
knowledge  of  his  intentions. 

Ian  Lorn  had  told  him  that  Argyle  had  halted 
close  to  Loch  Eil,  in  a  strong  fortress  called  Inver- 
lochy,  close  to  the  sea. 

Two  short  days  only  did  the  Scottish  Cavaliers 
take  before  the  old  fortress  frowned  before  them, 
to  recompense  them  for  their  arduous  march,  as, 
guided  by  Ian  Lorn  across  snow-girt  hills  and 
frozen  moors,  they  glided  along  more  swiftly  almost 
than  the  startled  herds  of  wild  deer  which,  at  sight 
of  those  '  kilted  laddies,'  fled  along  the  wild  passes 
before  them. 

This  march  of  thirty  miles,  however,  being  happily 
ended  in  safety,  the  poet  guide  demanded  his  free- 
dom and  a  recompense  from  Montrose.  It  was 
night  when  Ian  Lorn  received  his  guerdon,  so  richly 
earned,  from  Montrose. 

It  was  a  moment  for  a  painter  to  delineate,  or  a 
poet  to  describe.  The  moonlight  lighted  up  the 
rugged  rocks  around  Montrose's  wearied  men,  who 
dared  not  rest;  for  although  the  Cavaliers,  by  killing 
his  scouts,  had  almost  reached  Argyle's  camp  before 
he  knew  of  their  dread  vicinity,  the  rays  of  the 
mpon  on  that  clear  frosty  night  had  disclosed  the 


TOO  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

secret  of  their  presence  to  the  enemy  who  were 
encamped  before  them. 

'Ian  Lorn,'  said  the  great  Marquis,  'never  bard 
has  won  his  "brogue  money"  better  than  thou. 
Wilt  thou  fight  by  my  side  .-*' 

'  I  cannot,  my  Lord,'  replied  Ian  Lorn ;  *  but  fight 
to-day,  and  to-morrow  I  will  tell  you  what  you 
have  done.' 

Argyle's  craven  heart  again  failed  him.  Under 
pretence  that  he  was  too  indisposed  after  a  fall  to 
fight,  he  hastily  went  on  board  a  vessel  that  lay 
conveniently  at  hand,  and  issued  his  commands  to 
his  men  from  that  place  of  safety. 

They,  worthy  of  a  better  leader,  were  no  cowards. 
They  determined  to  meet  their  foe  with  valour, 
although  during  the  night  no  one  suspected  that 
Montrose  was  with  those  tartaned  warriors  who 
were  waiting  only  till  daybreak  to  attack  them. 

From  the  mountain  above,  the  faithful  bard,  who 
had  been  the  means  of  guiding  Montrose's  army  to 
the  spot,  watched  the  battle. 

He  saw  first  the  sun  slowly  rising  in  the  east, 
lighting  up  with  golden  splendour  the  fine  scenery 
around.  It  was  alone  enough  to  kindle  poetic 
ardour ;  but  as  he  gazed  below  him,  he  marked 
the  battle  begin  that  was  to  determine  the  fate 
of   a   king's    right    against    a   nation's   might.      It 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  loi 

was  Sunday  morning,  the  second  of  February 
1645. 

Unfortunately  for  the  brave  Campbells,  Argyle 
had  neglected  the  opportunity  afforded  him  by  the 
darkness  of  concentrating  all  his  forces.  The  River 
Lochy,  a  deep  rapid  stream,  divided  his  army, 
which,  if  united,  had  perchance  coped  better  witli 
the  Redshanks  ;  but  Argyle  had  refused  to  believe 
that  it  were  a  well-organized  force  that  lay  watching 
his  camp  that  bright  moonlight  night.  It  was  not 
till  a  loud  shrill  trumpet,  sounding  clear  and  louder 
through  the  mountain  air,  saluted  the  Dictator's  ear 
that  he  believed  in  the  presence  of  Montrose. 

His  cheek  paled  and  his  craven  heart  trembled 
at  the  blast.  His  clansmen  might  wonder  at  the 
sound,  never  perchance  heard  by  them  before ;  but 
the  MacCaileam  Mor  knew  that  it  was  intended  as 
a  salute  to  the  standard  of  a  king  whom  he  had 
betrayed. 

The  morning  mists  obscure  for  a  few  minutes  Ian 
Lorn's  view  of  that  historic  scene.  He  supports 
himself  by  a  stout  heather  twig,  as  in  his  anxiety 
he  strains  his  eyeballs  to  watch  the  battle. 

'  By  heavens !  they  fight  at  last,'  he  exclaims,  as, 
attacked  by  the  flower  of  the  Campbells,  the  brave 
ORyan  meets  the  first  attack  at  the  head  of  the 
Cavaliers. 


102  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

A  moment  before,  the  bard's  eager  eyes  have 
seen  a  white  flag  of  truce  advancing  from  Argyle's 
side;  but  it  was  disregarded  by  Montrose's  men, 
who  broke  off  with  impetuosity  to  meet  the  charge. 

The  Campbells  had  fired  on  Montrose's  soldiers ; 
but  when  the  latter  saw  that  they  had  muskets,  they 
rushed  all  the  wilder  on.  Destitute  of  powder,  they 
drew  their  claymores  and  closed  with  the  enemy, 
who,  daunted  by  so  unexpected  an  assault,  fled  in 
every  direction. 

Argyle's  troops  were  stationed  on  the  gentle 
ascent  that  led  to  the  castle  of  Inverlochy,  which 
was  flanked  by  the  loch  behind,  on  the  waters  of 
which  Argyle  watched  the  conflict.  The  River 
Lochy  at  that  point  joins  an  arm  of  the  sea  called 
Loch  Eil ;  and  when  the  Lowlanders,  who  formed 
the  right  and  left  wings  of  the  Covenanters'  army, 
saw  Montrose's  men  rush  wildly,  claymore  in  hand, 
towards  them,  they  threw  down  their  guns  and  fled 
in  a  panic,  pursued  for  upwards  of  nine  miles  by 
the  Redshanks. 

Some  fled  towards  the  square  towers  of  the  castle 
behind  them  ;  others  ran  wildly  down  towards  the 
beach,  in  the  vain  hope  of  saving  themselves  by 
means  of  a  number  of  small  fishing  smacks  that 
lay  moored  along  the  sea-shore.  Argyle,  as  he 
watched  those  wild   Highlanders  massacre  his  fly- 


The  Vozo  of  Montrose.  103 

ing  men,  might  well  congratulate  himself  that  he 
was  safe  on  board  his  vessel. 

The  body  of  many  a  brave  Campbell  floated 
round  the  bark  that  held  the  Covenanting  chief; 
but  eager  to  place  his  own  person  in  safety,  he 
stopped  not  to  pity  or  to  save.  He  gazed  not  with 
remorse  on  the  upturned  dead  faces,  but  hastily 
ordering  the  sailors  to  set  sail,  he  departed  to  seek 
a  place  of  greater  security. 

The  carnage  that  ensued  was  horrible  and  long. 
Fifteen  hundred  Campbells  perished  that  day, 
although  Montrose  would  fain  have  saved  the  lives 
of  many  a  valiant  gentleman  who  had  fought  for 
the  poltroon  Argyle. 

The  castle  surrendered.  Montrose  treated  all 
within  its  walls  with  great  kindness.  On  his  side 
the  number  of  the  killed  and  wounded  was  com- 
paratively small ;  but  after  the  battle,  the  brave  Sir 
Thomas  Ogilvie  died  of  his  wounds.  He  had  been 
one  of  the  truest  and  best  friends  Montrose  ever 
possessed. 

The  Redshanks,  after  pursuing  the  enemy,  turned 
back  to  get  what  food  they  could  for  their  mid-day 
meal.  To  cook  such  food  as  they  had  found  they 
needed  utensils,  and  a  party  sallied  forth  to  find 
some  pots  in  the  peasants'  houses. 

AUaster  Macdonald,  however,  had  failed  to  get  a 


I04  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

pot,  and  one  of  his  men,  approaching  a  party  of 
Highlanders  seated  round  a  fire,  begged  for  a  loan 
of  one.  The  men,  reluctant  to  offend  the  general, 
were  just  going  to  give  up  their  pot,  when  Robert- 
son, one  of  their  number,  remonstrated, 

'  Tell  the  general,'  said  he,  '  I  wouldn't  give  it  up. 
Why  should  he  spoil  our  breakfast  ?  I  am  as  good 
a  man  as  he.  If  he  killed  twenty  men,  I  killed 
nineteen.' 

The  messenger  returned  to  the  general,  who  was 
too  high-minded  to  be  angry  with  Robertson,  whom 
he  tried  to  find  out.  The  latter,  much  as  he  had 
boasted  of  his  prowess,  was  really  a  modest  man. 
He  felt  dreadfully  afraid  of  meeting  the  general 
after  his  daring  message,  and  glided  away  the 
moment  he  saw  him  approaching.  Allaster,  how- 
ever, determined  to  see  so  brave  a  man,  and  pre- 
sently overtaking  him,  demanded  his  name. 

"Tis  not  worthy  to  be  named,'  said    Robertson, 

*  among  those  of  the  brave  men  who  fought  to-day.' 

Pressed,  however,  by  Allaster,  he  said — 
'  I  am  only  a  poor  tinker  among  the  Athol  men.' 
'  Would  to  God,'  cried  Allaster,  '  the  Athol  men 
had  been  all  tinkers  this  day.'     Robertson's  descen- 
dants still  call  themselves,  with  great  pride,  the  race 

*  of  the  Tinker.' 

Allaster   was   noted    alike   for   his   courage   and 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  105 

strength  of  hand.  With  one  blow  he  could  strike 
a  single  enemy  dead.  He  was  therefore  greatly 
admired  by  the  Redshanks. 

Unhappily  in  his  case  courage  was  not  tempered 
by  mercy.  He  hated  the  Campbells  with  a  hatred 
that  led  him  to  commit  the  most  cruel  deeds  ;  and 
his  vindictive  feelings  towards  that  tribe  had  doubt- 
less made  him  take  up  arms  against  the  Cove- 
nanters. 

The  part  he  took  led  to  the  imprisonment  of  his 
father  and  two  brothers,  who,  at  the  very  time  of 
the  battle  of  Inverlochy,  were  captives  in  Edin- 
burgh. The  Campbells,  not  content  with  punishing 
Allaster  Macdonald's  relations,  had  behaved  with 
the  greatest  brutality  to  his  foster-nurse. 

A  Highlander  especially  reverences  his  foster- 
mother  ;  and  when  Allaster  heard  of  the  indignity 
with  which  she  had  been  treated,  he  vowed  he  would 
revenge  her  wrongs.     This  is  how  he  kept  his  word : — 

The  battle  was  over,  and  the  Redshanks  were 
returning  from  the  pursuit  at  evening,  bringing 
back  many  prisoners.  Montrose  did  all  he  could 
to  save  the  lives  of  some  honourable  men,  but  he 
was  successful  in  few  instances,  for  the  carnage  had 
been  dreadful.  Among  the  Campbells  was  the 
brave  old  Colonel  Campbell  of  Auchinbreck,  a  kins- 
man   of  Argyle.     When    Allaster   Macdonald   saw 


io6  The  Fieiy  Cross;  or. 

Colonel  Campbell  led  in  between  two  Highlanders, 
a  ghastly  purpose  crossed  his  mind.  The  latter,  a 
fine  courteous  soldier,  recognised  Macdonald,  and 
to  conciliate  his  victor,  alluded  to  a  'cousinship' 
that  existed  between  them;  but  Allaster  saw 
through  him. 

'  I  know  you  to  be  a  gentleman,'  said  he,  '  both  a 
laird  and  a  soldier  of  Auchinbreck,  in  Scotland,  and 
therefore  I  mean  to  treat  you  well.' 

Auchinbreck  began  to  hope  that  he  had  really 
escaped  his  doom,  and  he  thanked  his  conqueror. 

'  Which  do  you  choose,'  said  Allaster  ;  '  to  die  by 
hanging,  or  to  be  beheaded  .'' ' 

'  Alas ! '  said  the  old  Colonel,  '  it's  two  bads 
without  one  choice  ! ' 

Allaster  MacCol  beheaded  the  unfortunate  old 
soldier  with  one  sweep  of  the  gigantic  sword. 

Dreadful  is  war  that  has  power  to  rouse  such 
revengeful  feelings.  This  murder — for  it  can  be 
called  nothing  else — is  a  great  blot  on  the  Cavaliers' 
fame.  The  Campbells  had  been  cruel,  traitorous, 
and  treacherous,  but  nothing  justified  the  cruelties 
practised  on  them  in  return. 

*  Fallen  race  of  Diarmid  !  disloyal,  untnie, 
No  harp  in  the  Highlands  will  sorrow  for  you  ; 
But  the  birds  of  Loch  Eil  are  wheeling  on  high, 
And  the  Badenoch  wolves  hear  the  Cameron's  cry, — 
**  Come  feast  ye  !  come  feast  where  the  false-hearted  lie  I 


The  I'ow  of  Mo7itrose.  107 

The  wrongs  of  the  race  so  long  oppressed  by 
Argyle's  tribe  were  cruelly  revenged  that  day. 
I'he  battle  of  Inverlochy  produced  the  effect  on 
Scotland  that  Montrose  had  anticipated. 

In  vain  Argyle,  parading  his  arm  in  a  sling,  to 
show  that  an  accident  had  prevented  his  fighting  in 
person,  so  perverted  the  truth  in  recounting  the 
reasons  of  his  retreat,  that  instead  of  branding  his 
name  as  a  coward,  the  Edinburgh  Covenanters 
even  thanked  him  for  his  services.  Throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  Highlands,  Montrose 
was  celebrated  as  a  hero  who  had  defeated  one  of 
the  three  large  armies  sent  against  him. 

He  had  aspired  to  reduce  his  native  but  rebellious 
land  to  obedience.  The  idea  was  romantic,  noble, 
and  brave,  but  it  ultimately  failed  for  lack  of  the 
co-operation  of  many  who,  though  at  heart  no 
Covenanters,  dreaded  the  evils  that  Charles  the 
First,  through  his  weakness  as  a  king,  had  brought 
upon  their  country;  nevertheless,  such  was  the  panic 
that  the  battle  of  Inverlochy  produced,  that  had 
Montrose  pushed  on  to  Edinburgh,  he  would  pro- 
bably have  met  with  but  slight  resistance. 

He  mistrusted  the  fighting  powers  of  the  High- 
landers, and  feared  lest,  removed  from  their  moun- 
tains, the  very  sight  of  whose  snow-clad  peaks 
seemed  to  rouse  their  souls  to  the  performance  of 


io8  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

great  deeds,  they  might  be  crushed  when  led  against 
armies  of  well-organized  troops.  He  accordingly, 
after  resting  a  few  days,  turned  northwards,  and 
once  more  found  himself  and  his  men  quartered  at 
Loch  Ness. 

Loch  Ness,  the  second  largest  lake  in  Scotland, 
takes  its  name,  '  the  loch  above  the  waterfall,'  from 
the  Ness,  which  falls  from  a  great  height  into  its 
waters.  It  is  in  a  valley  called  '  the  great  vale  of 
Alban,'  along  which  are  the  remains  of  some  very 
ancient  forts,  used,  it  is  believed,  as  early  as  the 
days  of  the  Pictish  kings  as  places  for  watchfires 
or  beacons.  He  then  marched  on,  always  in  a 
northerly  direction,  till  he  came  to  the  River  Spey. 
Montrose  laid  waste  all  the  lands  he  passed  on  his 
road  ;  and  although  he  was  too  humane  to  allow 
such  violence,  he  had  but  little  choice.  Argyle  had 
ravaged  the  lands  of  the  Royalists,  and  a  system 
of  retaliation  v/as  all  that  Montrose's  friends  and 
followers  cared  for.  Had  the  King's  noble  cham- 
pion dared  for  one  moment  to  check  his  followers, 
he  would  soon  have  found  himself  utterly  deserted. 
Revenge  was  the  predominant  motive  that  animated 
the  Redshanks,  and  the  Marquis,  unable  to  repress, 
was  constrained  into  permitting  their  cruelties. 

Fiercely  had  the  fiery  cross  aroused  those  brave 
but  pitiless  warriors ! 


Tlie  Vow  of  Montrose.  109 

It  was  a  war  of  fire  and  bloodshed  ;  and  the  track 
of  the  Cavaliers,  as  they  marched  towards  Elgin, 
was  marked  by  devastated  fields,  ruined  home- 
steads, fire,  rapine,  and  cruelty.  Mothers  clasped 
their  children  closer  to  their  bosoms  as  the  dread 
name  'Montrose'  was  named;  and  such  was  the 
terror  he  inspired,  that  even  the  stern  rulers  of  the 
land  forebore  to  execute  the  unfortunate  Royalists 
who  had  fallen  into  their  hands. 

Montrose  had  two  motives  for  directing  his  course 
towards  Elgin.  He  heard  that  a  body  of  soldiers, 
officered  by  several  leading  men,  were  being  armed 
against  the  royal  cause,  and  he  thought  it  not 
unlikely  that  as  soon  as  it  was  known  how  com- 
pletely he  had  defeated  Argyle,  many  would  flock 
to  his  standard  and  join  his  side. 

Then  he  knew  that  if  he  attempted  to  take 
Inverness,  he  ran  great  risk  of  being  defeated,  as 
that  city  was  well  garrisoned,  and  would  not  easily 
surrender.  A  great  many  gentlemen,  however, 
joined  Montrose ;  among  them  the  Laird  of  Grant 
with  three  hundred  men,  Sir  Robert  Gordon  and 
the  Earl  of  Seaforth,  who  at  the  head  of  a  large 
force  had  recently  been  employed  by  the  Cove- 
nanters to  arrest  his  progress. 

As  these  gentlemen  were  influential  in  their  own 
part  of  Scotland,  their  example  had  great  weight 


no  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

with  others  ;  and  every  day  the  camp  of  Montrose 
received  fresh  reinforcements. 

The  gentlemen  of  Moray  vokintarily  dispersed  as 
the  CavaHers  approached  Elgin;  they  first,  however, 
sent  a  deputation  to  Montrose  to  entreat  his  good 
offices.  To  these  he  had  replied,  that  his  only 
terms  were  'submission  to  the  King  and  his  lieu- 
tenant.' 

Elgin,  which  he  reached  on  the  14th  of  February, 
readily  submitted  to  Montrose. 

When,  as  already  stated,  the  Marquis  first  con- 
templated the  romantic  scheme  of  raising  the  High- 
lands in  Charles's  favour,  he  had  hoped  much  from 
the  Gordons,  and  was  greatly  disappointed  to  find 
that  gallant  race  holding  aloof.  His  delight  was 
therefore  great,  when,  on  the  very  day  after  he 
entered  the  now  deserted  Elgin,  he  was  joined  by 
Lord  Gordon,  the  Marquis  of  Huntly's  eldest  son. 

Lord  Gordon,  disgusted  with  Argyle's  conduct, 
had  shaken  of  the  trammels  of  the  Covenanting 
party,  which  up  to  that  time  he  had  reluctantly 
joined,  and  now  openly  declared  himself  a  Royalist. 

This  young  nobleman  could  not  bring  a  great 
many  adherents  to  the  royal  cause,  but  his  example 
was  followed  by  his  brother  Lord  Lewis  ;  and  both 
were  graciously  welcomed  by  Montmqp. 

Early  in  March,  the  Marquis  and  his  Redshank"— 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  1 1 1 

their  numbers  greatly  augmented  by  the  Gordons 
and  Grants,  who  had  subsequently  joined — crossed 
the  River  Spey,  where  he  was  joined  by  many  inde- 
pendent gentlemen  of  Banffshire  and  Aberdeenshire. 
Those  who  would  not  run  the  risk  of  drawing  down 
the  wrath  of  the  Covenanters  by  an  open  declara- 
tion for  the  King,  were  allowed  to  go  free,  provided 
they  promised  not  to  fight  against  him.  This 
promise,  held  sacred  by  many,  was  broken  by  the 
Earl  of  Seaforth,  who  shortly  afterwards  deserted 
the  Cavaliers.  He  had  merely  joined  the  Cavaliers 
from  motives  of  expediency  ;  and  when  all  fears  for 
his  own  personal  safety  were  removed  by  their 
absence  from  his  country,  he  deserted  them. 

The  news  of  the  Cavaliers'  doings  in  the  north 
at  last  aroused  the  worst  fears  of  the  Edinburgh 
Government.  No  longer  blinded  to  their  danger 
by  Argyle,  they  hastily  summoned  General  Baillie 
from  England,  and  ordered  Sir  John  Hurry  to  take 
the  immediate  command  of  the  army  in  the  north, 
and  rid  them,  if  possible,  of  the  terrible  Mon- 
trose. 

The  soldier  to  whom  these  orders  were  given  was 
a  famous  general,  who  had  been  knighted  in  1643 
by  King  Charles,  soon  after  he  had  quitted  the 
Covenanters ;  although  he  very  soon  changed  sides 
again,  and  after  a  very  brief  service  under  Prince 


1 1 2  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Rupert,  Charles's  nephew,  went  over  to  the  Presby- 
terians. 

Although  so  unstable.  Sir  John  Hurry  was  an 
able  and  daring  soldier.  He  commanded  a  fine 
body  of  cavalry,  and  marched  rapidly  after  the 
Cavaliers ;  the  Edinburgh  Government  meanwhile 
appointing  three  committees  to  regulate  military 
matters.  Argyle,  keeping  his  influence  in  spite  of 
his  recent  failures,  headed  one  of  them  ;  the  Earl  of 
Lanerick,  Hamilton's  brother,  another;  and  Bal- 
merino  and  Lindsay  the  third. 

Montrose  was  visited  at  this  time  with  a  domestic 
affliction  in  the  death  of  his  eldest  son,  a  fine  lad  of 
fifteen,  who  succumbed  to  the  hardships  of  a  winter's 
campaign,  and  died  after  a  few  days'  illness  at  Gor- 
don Castle.  Gordon  Castle  was  then  called  the  Bog 
of  Gight,  and  was  commanded  by  a  spirited  man, 
one  of  the  '  gay  Gordons,'  who  did  all  that  lay  in 
his  power  to  induce  the  whole  of  his  clan  to  join 
Montrose. 

Among  them  was  a  brave  but  daring  Cavalier 
named  Nathaniel  Gordon,  who  had  been  the  means 
of  winning  Lord  Gordon  over  to  the  royal  cause. 
When  traversing  Banffshire  and  Aberdeen,  Mon- 
trose sent  this  brave  Nathaniel  Gordon  to  Aberdeen 
to  demand  men,  horses,  and  money. 

Gordon  feared  no  Covenanter;  but  his  reckless 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  1 1 3 

bravery  cost  the  royal  cause  very  dearly.  He  took 
with  him  to  Aberdeen  a  Mr.  Donald  Farquharson  of 
Braemar,  one  of  the  bravest  Highland  gentlemen  in 
the  royal  army.  This  gallant  gentleman  belonged 
to  a  gallant  race  whose  clan  also  inhabited  Balmoral, 
in  Aberdeenshire, — a  place  now  familiar  to  us  all, — 
and  whose  Gaelic  name,  '  Baile-na-morail,'  means 
'  majestic  town.'  This  gallant  chief,  after  doing  his 
duty  in  helping  Gordon  to  perform  Montrose's  com- 
mission, wishing  to  enjoy  himself,  threw  aside  his 
plaid,  put  on  a  rich  suit,  and  '  made  merry '  with  his 
comrades.  The  citizens  of  Aberdeen  were  supposed 
to  be  so  overawed  by  the  terror  of  Montrose's  name, 
that  the  Cavaliers  imprudently  neglected  to  post 
sentinels  outside  the  banqueting  hall,  where,  gaily 
attired,  they  were  feasting  and  enjoying  good  wine, 
provided  at  the  town's  expense. 

Whether  or  not  some  citizen,  determined  to  betray 
them,  had  given  Sir  John  Hurry  notice  of  their 
vicinity,  is  not  really  known  ;  but  while  feasting  and 
singing,  the  Cavaliers  were  hurriedly  warned  that 
Hurry,  followed  by  about  a  hundred  and  sixty  men, 
was  coming  rapidly  towards  their  rendezvous. 

Farquharson,  rushing  to  the  door,  was  met  by  the 
Covenanters,  who  instantly  killed  him  ;  and  tearing 
off  his  rich  clothes,  threw  his  dead  body  naked  into 
the  streets. 


114  ^^^^^  Fiery  Cross. 

Gordon  and  a  few  of  the  party  escaped,  though 
forced  to  fly  on  foot,  leaving  some  valuable  horses 
behind  them  ;  but  the  greater  number  of  the 
Cavaliers  were  captured  and  carried  off  to  Edin- 
burgh, where  they  were  thrown  into  the  Tolbooth, 
to  be  punished  according  to  the  pleasure  of  the 
Covenanters. 

The  citizens  of  Aberdeen  were  greatly  alarmed  at 
this  tragical  event,  lest  Montrose  should  vent  his 
anger  on  their  city  ;  but  although  he  made  them 
pay  a  fine,  he  respected  their  liberties. 

This  trouble,-  involving  the  loss  of  so  brave  a 
gentleman  as  Donald  Farquharson,  was  not  the  only 
one  that  happened  in  that  month.  Sir  John  Hurry, 
not  content  with  his  dashing  exploit  at  Aberdeen, 
managed  to  get  hold  of  Montrose's  second  son,  a  boy 
of  fourteen,  who  was  at  school  at  Montrose.  Both  he 
and  his  tutor  were  sent  to  the  Edinburgh  Tolbooth, 
in  hopes  of  intimidating  his  father.  But  if  they 
hoped  to  quench  the  high  spirit  of  Montrose,  they 
were  mistaken.  Grieving  sorely  at  the  loss  of  his 
children,  he  yet  pursued  his  course;  and  after  burning 
and  laying  waste  the  lands  about  Stonehaven  and 
Dunnottar, —  the  latter  place  belonging  to  Earl 
Marischal,  who  would  not  join  him, — he  passed  the 
Grampian  Hills,  and  encamped  seven  miles  from 
Sir  John  Hurry's  quarters  near  Brechin. 


'^-e^ 


CHAPTER    IV. 


'  Let  the  ancient  hills  of  Scotland 
Hear  once  more  the  battle  song 
Swell  within  their  glens  and  valleys, 
As  the  clansmen  march  along.' 

— AytouN. 

IR  JOHN  HURRY,  with  a  fine  body  of 
cavalry,  and  being  a  very  skilful  general, 
counted  on  an  easy  victory  over  Montrose. 

He  thought  that  could  he  but  once  meet  him  on 
level  ground,  away  from  the  mountains,  he  must 
surely  defeat  an  enemy  so  ill  provided  with  troops. 
His  scouts  brought  word  that  the  Redshanks  were 
quartered  at  Fettercairn,  a  village  about  eight  miles 
from  his  own  camp. 

The  Marquis  hearing  that  Hurry  intended  to 
fight,  determined  to  lay  a  trap  for  him.  He  had 
only  two  hundred  horsemen,  and  these  he  placed  in 
front  of  all  his  army.  His  foot  were  artfully  con- 
cealed in  a  hollow ;  so  that  when  Sir  John  rode  up 
at  the  head  of  his  regulars,  only  seeing  so  small  a 

"5 


1 1 6  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

number  of  men,  he  fancied  that  Montrose  would 
soon  be  routed. 

'  Fire !'  cried  he  to  his  men,  who  at  once  charged. 
But  scarcely  had  they  done  so,  when  up  jumped  a 
large  body  of  Redshanks,  and  advancing  on  Hurry's 
men,  gave  them  such  a  warm  reception,  that  they 
were  compelled  to  sound  a  hasty  retreat. 

Hurry,  however,  was  no  coward  like  Argyle,  for 
he  fought  bravely  in  the  rear  of  his  army,  and  re- 
treated his  men  in  good  order  across  the  River  Esk. 
But  his  defeat  taught  him  to  respect  Montrose's 
warlike  abilities  as  much  as  he  had  previously 
despised  them. 

Another  general  was  soon  to  measure  his  strength 
against  Montrose, — that  was  Baillie,  who  had  a  veiy 
large  force  under  him,  and  had  been  specially  sum- 
moned from  England  to  crush  the  *  malignant  * 
army.  He  quitted  Perth  in  March,  and  advanced  to 
meet  Montrose  on  his  road  from  Brechin. 

The  two  armies  sighted  each  other  near  the  River 
Isla,  whose  waters  divided  their  hostile  forces.  For 
four  days  and  five  nights  they  gazed  impatiently 
upon  each  other's  ranks,  the  river  dividing  them. 

Nothing  could  be  more  trying  to  the  impetuous 
spirit  of  Montrose.  He  sent  a  message  to  Baillie, 
that  he  longed  to  give  him  battle. 

*  Pledge  me  your  honour,'  said  Montrose,  '  to  fight. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  117 

and  I  will  permit  your  whole  force  to  pass  safely- 
over  the  stream,  or  I  will  meet  you  on  the  other 
side ! ' 

*  Tell  Montrose/  replied  Baillie,  '  that  I  will  fight 
at  my  own  time  and  in  my  own  way,  without  asking 
his  leave  ! ' 

The  armies  retreated  without  encountering  each 
other  in  battle, — a  result  highly  galling  to  Montrose, 
who  longed  for  another  conflict  with  his  enemies. 

After  escaping  again  in  a  surprising  manner  from 
Hurry  and  Baillie,  Montrose  retreated  to  Dunkeld, 
where  he  planned  an  enterprise  that  once  more 
nearly  proved  fatal  to  his  cause. 

In  the  first  place,  unknown  to  his  brother,  Lord 
Lewis  Gordon  suddenly  deserted  the  royal  standard, 
and  disappeared  from  Montrose's  camp,  accompanied 
by  a  good  many  Gordons,  and  went  over  to  the 
enemy.  This  young  nobleman  was  by  nature  so 
volatile  that  his  support  could  not  be  relied  upon  ; 
but  many  believed  he  was  acting  under  instructions 
from  the  Marquis  of  Huntly,  his  father,  who  would 
not  be  induced  to  give  Montrose  his  support.  Be 
that  as  it  might,  for  it  has  never  been  really  proved 
against  the  Marquis  of  Huntly  that  he  acted 
treacherously.  Lord  Lewis's  desertion  came  at  a 
critical  moment,  and  Montrose  determined  to  retreat 
northwards,  in  order  to  recruit  his  weakened  forces. 


1 1 8  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

He  was  on  his  way  northwards  when  his  scouts, 
flying  back,  brought  word  that  the  Covenanters  had 
crossed  the  Tay,  south  of  Perth.  Believing  that  his 
way  to  it  was  therefore  clear,  our  hero  determined 
to  make  a  raid  on  Dundee,  which  he  looked  upon 
as  a  most  disloyal  city.  He  sent  all  his  heavy 
baggage  and  the  weakest  of  his  little  army  to 
Brechin,  and  ordered  them  to  await  him  there. 

One  fine  April  morning,  Montrose,  at  the  head  of 
six  hundred  Highlanders  and  about  a  hundred  and 
fifty  horsemen,  appeared  on  a  hill  overlooking  Dun- 
dee, and  sent  a  messenger  to  demand  its  capitula- 
tion, in  '  the  name  of  the  King.' 

Receiving  no  reply,  and  from  his  messenger  not 
returning,  Montrose  knew  that  they  had  carried  out 
their  usual  course  and  thrown  him  into  prison. 
Irritated  at  resistance,  the  Marquis  let  loose  his 
Redshanks,  eager  as  bloodhounds  to  scent  blood. 
The  citizens  made  a  kind  of  defence,  but  Allaster 
Macdonald  and  Lord  Gordon  stormed  the  place  in 
three  directions,  and  soon  entered  Dundee. 

The  townspeople  were  well  punished  for  resist- 
ance. Once  inside  Dundee,  the  Irish  brigade  and 
clansmen  took  possession  of  the  church  and  public 
places.  The  burghers  were  beaten  back,  and  a  scene 
of  great  pillage  followed.  Montrose,  from  a  neigh- 
bouring height,  made   no   effort  to  stop  the  course 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  119 

of  their  fury,  for  Dundee  had  offended  him,  and  he 
suffered  it  to  be  punished. 

Feasting  and  drinking,  the  Highlanders  and  Irish 
were  regaling  themselves  on  the  spoils  they  found  in 
that  rich  town,  when  Montrose  was  warned  by  his 
scouts  that  Hurry  and  Baillie,  with  an  army  twice 
as  numerous  as  his  own,  were  but  eight  miles  off, 
hastening  to  the  relief  of  Dundee. 

What  was  to  be  done  .-*  All  his  troops,  with  but 
one  trifling  exception,  were  inside  Dundee,  drinking, 
pillaging,  and  storming.  His  friends  urged  him  to 
ensure  his  own  safety  by  flight.  The  noble  spirit  of 
Montrose  at  once  repudiated  the  idea  of  abandoning 
his  Redshanks  to  their  fate. 

There  was  little  time  for  action,  but  much  danger 
in  the  task.  Ordering  the  trumpets  to  be  sounded, 
he  hastily  recalled  the  revellers ;  and  by  dint  of 
the  greatest  personal  exertions,  got  nearly  all  his 
intoxicated  men  to  march  out  before  the  enemy 
arrived  in  sight.  So  thoroughly  had  he  been  sur- 
prised, however,  that  the  Covenanters  were  positively 
entering  one  gate  of  Dundee  as  the  last  of  the  clans- 
men defiled  past  their  chivah'ous  leader  through 
another. 

He  sent  his  men  forward  in  two  bodies,  guarding 
the  rear  with  his  cavalry.  The  sun  was  setting  as 
the  Cavaliers    quitted    Dundee.      The    Covenanters 


1 20  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

immediately  pursued  them,  Baillie  sendin^^  part  of 
his  forces  round  to  attack  the  Royalists  in  flank,  while 
Hurry  was  to  engage  them  in  the  rear. 

Never  had  Montrose  been  nearer  falling  into  the 
hands  of  his  enemies.  To  stimulate  their  soldiers 
to  the  pursuit,  the  Parliamentary  generals  set  a  price 
on  the  gallant  Graham's  head. 

Although  Hurry's  horse  made  several  attacks  on 
the  Earl  of  Montrose's  army,  they  were  kept  at  bay 
by  the  determined  resistance  of  the  Redshanks  ;  and 
night  falling,  the  Parliamentarians  abandoned  the 
pursuit,  and  retired  to  the  main  body  of  the  army. 

Although  Montrose  had  retreated  in  time,  it  was 
indeed  an  arduous  march  that  lay  before  him,  were 
his  men  to  reach  the  sea-coast  before  day  should 
dawn.  They,  however,  marched  boldly  on,  and 
reached  Arbroath,  seventeen  miles  from  Dundee, 
before  daybreak. 

Numerous  were  Montrose's  difficulties  in  returning 
to  the  mountains.  He  knew  that  Baillie  would 
suspect  his  design,  and  endeavour  to  cut  off  every 
road  to  the  hills. 

While  their  leader  was  pondering  over  his  position 
at  Arbroath,  the  weary  Highlanders  lay  down  to 
rest,  thoroughly  exhausted  by  the  fatigues  of  the 
eventful  day. 

To  rest  was  fatal.     Daybreak  would  find   their 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  121 

pursuers  upon  them  if  they  slept  even  for  an  hour. 
Appealing  to  their  attachment  to  himself,  and 
rousing  the  slumberers,  Montrose  and  his  chieftains 
urged  on  their  men. 

Montrose  formed  a  daring  plan.  He  doubled 
upon  those  in  pursuit  of  him,  and  before  morning 
the  distant  Grampian  hills  rose  before  his  eyes  but 
three  or  four  miles  off.  They  were  safe.  In  those 
beloved  mountains  they  could  hide  if  too  sorely 
pressed.  Safe  at  length  in  the  depths  of  Glen  Esk, 
Montrose  then,  deeply  moved  at  the  sufferings  of 
his  Highlanders — who  had  marched  without  rest  or 
food  for  sixty  miles — stopped  in  that  romantic  place 
to  restore  his  troops. 

The  chiefs  once  more  met  in  council.  Lord  Gor- 
don, eager  to  clear  himself  of  any  complicity  in  his 
brother  Lewis's  desertion,  volunteered  to  return  into 
his  own  country  and  there  recruit  for  the  King's 
service.  He  was,  indeed,  anxious  to  return,  for  he 
was  fearful  that  Hurry,  in  revenge  for  his  adherence 
to  the  lOyal  cause,  might  take  advantage  of  his 
absence  to  ravage  his  country. 

Accordingly,  the  gallant  young  nobleman  left 
Montrose  in  the  mountains ;  and  Allaster  Mac- 
donald  was  sent  farther  north  for  fresh  recruits, 
while  another  chief  proceeded  to  Athol  to  raise,  if 
possible,  more  volunteers. 


122  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

The  Marquis  himself  was  then  left  alone,  with  a 
small  force  of  only  five  hundred  foot  and  fifty  horse. 

After  sending  off  a  messenger  in  disguise  to  the 
King,  Montrose,  instead  of  remaining  inactive  in  the 
hills,  suddenly  reappeared,  to  the  astonishment  of 
Hurry  and  Baillie.  who  had  stated  that  the  greater 
part  of  his  army  had  been  annihilated,  and  himself 
skulking  in  the  Grampians.  They  were  soon  made 
to  retract  their  words.  Sir  John  Hurry  had  been 
sent  by  the  committee,  at  the  head  of  another  large 
army,  into  Aberdeen  and  its  neighbourhood,  to 
direct  his  strength  against  Lord  Gordon  in  the 
north. 

General  Baillie  remained  at  Perth  to  be  ready  to 
assist,  if  necessary,  Sir  John  Hurry's  army. 

If  the  Covenanters  fancied  Montrose  would  have 
remained  inactive,  they  were  grievously  mistaken. 
The  Marquis  had  determined  on  a  daring  enter- 
prise,— no  less  than  a  descent  on  the  Lowlands. 
He  had  also  a  double  motive,  which  was  to  harass 
his  enemies  and  keep  them  occupied  in  watching 
his  movements,  while  his  friends  were  scouring 
Scotland  for  further  aid. 

Baillie,  hearing  from  his  spies  that  Montrose  was 
quartered  at  Crieff,  determined  to  try  and  surprise 
him.  He  set  out  at  night,  and  reached  Montrose's 
camp  at  daybreak.     The  Marquis  had  been  warned 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  123 

of  his  approach  ;  and  finding  that  the  Parliamentary 
army  was  five  times  larger  than  his  own,  ordered  his 
men  to  retreat,  while,  at  the  head  of  his  cavalry,  he 
rode  forward  to  keep  the  enemy  at  bay  while  his 
foot  reached  the  pass  of  Ern  in  safety. 

There,  on  the  scene  of  many  an  ancient  battle, 
— for  Strathearn  in  Perthshire  is  the  site  of  three 
large  camps  erected  by  Agricola  when  the  Romans 
first  visited  Britain, — Montrose  rested  for  a  night 
Next  day  he  and  his  daring  band  were  marching 
towards  Loch  Katrine. 

From  that  lovely  spot  he  proceeded  to  Loch 
Ard,  having  effected  a  meeting  with  the  IMarquis 
of  Huntly's  second  son,  Viscount  Aboyne,  who, 
after  hesitating  about  joining  Montrose,  had  at 
length  escaped  from  England  to  fight  under  the 
King's  banner. 

Montrose,  however,  could  not  linger  where  he 
was ;  for  he  soon  heard  ill-tidings  of  Lord  Gordon 
in  the  north.  Hurry,  finding  that  Lord  Gordon 
persisted  in  his  adherence  to  the  King,  threatened 
him  and  all  his  clan  with  destruction  at  Auchin- 
doun  in  the  north.  Montrose  therefore  determined 
to  set  off  to  the  rescue. 

Besides  Lord  Aboyne,  our  hero  was  now  johicd 
by  two  noble  youths  who  had  managed  to  escape 
out   of  Edinburgh.     They  were  his   two  nephews, 


1 24  The  Fieiy  Cross  ;  or, 

the  Master  of  Napier  and  the  young  Laird  of  Keir. 
The  Government  in  Edinburgh  had  not  been 
ashamed  to  punish  the  Marquis  by  imprisoning  and 
ill-treating  his  relations.  Young  Napier  was  only 
just  twenty-one.  He  had  been  married  at  the  early 
age  of  sixteen,  and  was  son  of  Montrose's  great 
friend  Lord  Napier. 

Montrose,  by  a  rapid  march,  succeeded  in  joining 
Lord  Gordon ;  and  Sir  John  Hurry  was  startled 
early  in  May  to  find  him  close  to  his  camp  in 
Strathbogie. 

Rather  than  meet  Montrose  in  battle  before  re- 
inforcements should  arrive.  Hurry  crossed  the  Spey 
and  retreated  to  Elgin,  the  Cavaliers  in  full  chase. 
Montrose  was  very  ill  provided  with  ammunition  ; 
but  Lord  Gordon,  with  great  gallantry,  had  pro- 
cured a  fresh  supply  by  boarding  two  ships  laden 
with  gunpowder  in  the  port  of  Aberdeen. 

Montrose  encamped  at  a  village  called  Auldearn, 
where,  happily,  he  had  the  aid  of  Allaster  Mac- 
-  donald,  who  had  rejoined  his  leader  with  his  men. 

Sir  John  Hurry  had  been  joined  by  the  Earls  of 
Scaforth  and  Sutherland,  and  a  large  reinforcement 
in  the  clan  Eraser,  with  several  men  belonging  to 
Moray  and  Caithness. 

Besides  this  considerable  force,  the  regular  troops 
commanded    by    Hurry    were    well-disciplined    and 


Ihe  Vow  of  Montrose.  125 

drilled  men-at-arms.  The  Marquis  therefore  see- 
ing that  he  had  a  well-provided  army  opposed  to 
him,  would  gladly  have  avoided  a  battle,  but  he 
dared  not  do  so,  hearing  that  Baillie,  with  a  far 
larger  body  of  men,  was  on  his  road  to  the  Spey, 
prepared  to  intercept  his  retreat  should  he  attempt 
one. 

It  is  the  peculiarity  of  all  greatness  of  mind  to 
rise  to  an  emergency.  Montrose  might  well  doubt 
the  issue,  but  he  did  not  shirk  a  battle.  He  com- 
mitted the  fate  of  his  little  band  to  Providence,  and 
prepared  for  the  enemy's  assault. 

He  drew  up  his  men  in  a  valley  between  the  town 
and  a  few  small  hills  behind.  The  rugged  ascent  of 
the  hill  upon  which  the  hamlet  was  built  he  turned 
to  advantage  by  stationing  on  it  a  few  pieces  of 
cannon,  telling  his  men  to  entrench  themselves  in  a 
number  of  dykes  that  ran  along  its  side. 

Allaster  Macdonald  and  his  men  he  stationed 
near  some  uneven  ground  opposite  the  enemy's  left 
wing,  telling  him  to  maintain  that  secure  position, 
and  act  as  a  reserve  in  case  of  need. 

To  the  brave  Colkeitoch  he  confided  the  royal 
standard,  a  large  yellow  flag,  intending  to  mislead 
his  antagonists  by  inducing  them  to  attack  the 
place,  which  the  Marquis  knew  was  impregnable,  if 
steadily  kept  by  Macdonald's  brigade. 


126  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Sir  John  Hurry,  seeing  the  standard  displayed, 
did  exactly  as  Montrose  had  anticipated ;  and  Col- 
keitoch,  roused  by  the  attack  to  fury,  forgot  his 
general's  orders,  left  his  position,  and  was  instantly 
beset  and  almost  enclosed  by  a  large  body  of  the 
enemy's  foot  and  horse. 

The  battle  raged  loud  and  fiercely ;  but  unfor- 
tunately for  Macdonald,  he  had  exchanged  ninety 
of  his  veteran  Irish  for  the  same  number  of  men 
under  Lord  Gordon,  just  as  the  fighting  com- 
menced. 

Allaster  was  forming  his  men  in  battle  array, 
when  a  message  was  brought  him  from  Lord 
Gordon. 

'  Macdonald,'  said  the  missive,  *  there  was  once  a 
bond  between  your  ancestors  and  mine.  The  bond 
said  that  our  forefathers  should  strike  no  blow  at 
each  other,  whatever  might  be  the  quarrel  between 
the  other  parts  of  the  realnl.  None  excelled  our 
forefathers  in  renown  ;  let  us  therefore,  by  exchang- 
ing men,  renew  this  bond,  on  this  the  first  day's 
fight,  beneath  this  banner,  for  my  country  and  my 
King!' 

The  few  fighting  men  sent  him  by  Lord  Gordon 
were  but  a  sorry  exchange  for  his  own  trusty 
veterans.  They  were  principally  young  recruits, 
and  it  needed  all  AUaster's  great  heroism  to  pre- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  127 

vent  their  dispersion ;  for,  ill  at  ease,  they  did  not 
fight  well  under  their  new  leader,  and  Macdonald's 
men,  who  were  in  their  rear  and  van,  had  to  force 
them  to  stand  the  shower  of  arrows  that  saluted 
them  from  the  enemy's  quarter. 

Allaster,  compelled  to  sound  a  retreat  to  the 
position  that  he  had  so  imprudently  abandoned, 
ordered  them  back  to  the  garden  in  which  Mon- 
trose had  placed  them.  Protecting  himself  with  a 
large  shield,  he  fought  most  gallantly  to  cover  his 
men's  retreat.  He  parried  the  spears  of  the  enemy 
with  an  immense  sword  that  he  wielded  with  pro- 
digious strength,  and  one  by  one  he  thrust  his 
attackers  back  till  every  one  of  his  men  were  safe 
in  the  garden.  Just  at  that  moment  his  sword — 
the  trusty  weapon  that  had  stood  him  in  such  good 
stead — broke  in  his  hand.  His  brother-in-law, 
handing  him  his,  fell  mortally  wounded. 

The  conflict  was  thus  proceeding,  Colkeitoch  fight- 
ing like  a  lion,  when  Montrose,  watching  the  battle 
from  the  height  on  which  the  village  lay,  hears  a 
murmur  round  him. 

*  Macdonald  is  being  routed !  his  men  are  in 
flight.' 

Quick   as   lightning    Montrose    cried   out,  '  I\Iac- 
donald  is  gaining  the  victory  single-handed  I' 
-  Lord   Gordon   stood    near    him,   and    Montrose, 


128  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

turning  to  him,  cried  out,  '  What,  my  Lord !  shall 
all  the  Gordons  stand  by  and  win  no  laurels  for 
their  clan  ?  Up,  men,  and  charge  the  troops  Mac- 
donald  has  defeated  !* 

Montrose's  ready  wit  saved  the  day.  Mingling 
the  ringing  sound  of  the  Gordons'  war-cry  to  that 
of  the  Macdonalds',  '  Traoch  eilean!'  '  Fraoch 
eilean!'  on  rushed  the  men  of  Huntly  and  Strath- 
bogie,  and  Hurry's  soldiers  were  driven  off  the 
field. 

The  loss  on  the  Covenanters'  side  was  tre- 
mendous. Pursuing  their  enemy  for  miles,  the 
Redshanks  fought  with  valour,  and  slew  all  they 
captured.  Three  thousand  of  Sir  John  Hurry's 
experienced  troops  were  thus  scattered  by  the 
Cavaliers,  while  he  himself  was  forced  to  fly  for  his 
life. 

The  honours  of  the  day  were  divided  between 
the  Macdonalds  and  the  Gordons ;  and  Montrose 
is  said  to  have  declared  that  he  had  never  wit- 
nessed a  scene  of  greater  slaughter,  greater  valour, 
nor  greater  feats  of  arms,  than  those  performed  by 
Nathaniel  Gordon,  Ronald  Macdonald,  and  Lord 
Gordon  in  that  bloody  battle  of  Auldearn. 

Twelve  hundred  men  belonging  to  Hurry's  army 
were  slain,  while  on  Montrose's  side  the  loss  was 
comparatively    insignificant,    although    many   were 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  129 

badly  wounded.  The  number  of  Frasers  who  were 
killed  at  Auldearn  was  so  great,  that,  without 
reckoning  the  unmarried  men  who  fell,  it  was  said 
that  the  battle  'made  eighty-seven  widows  alone 
in  the  lordship  of  Lovat.' 

Hurry's  army  having  lost  their  baggage,  provi- 
sions, and  standard,  retreated,  but  in  a  very  dis- 
orderly manner,  to  Inverness,  where  its  leader  tried 
a  Captain  Drummond  by  court-martial,  and  shot 
him,  for  having  purposely  led  the  company  he 
commanded  to  the  wrong  side,  and  for  being  in 
communication  with  Montrose.  They  tried  to  fix 
on  Drummond  the  disgrace  of  their  terrible  defeat. 

Very  soon  after  the  battle  of  Inverlochy,  Mon- 
trose had  despatched  a  letter  to  the  King  in 
England.  It  was  very  difficult  to  get  letters  safely 
conveyed  to  Charles.  To  be  the  bearer  of  such 
missives  was  a  service  of  great  danger.  A  Scottish 
gentleman  named  Small,  from  devotion  to  Montrose 
and  the  royal  cause,  had  volunteered  to  carry  a 
packet  to  the  Marquis,  and  succeeded  in  delivering 
it.  This  service  was  one  of  danger,  and  was  accom- 
plished by  Small  disguised  as  a  beggar.  Unhappily 
his  disguise  failed  him;  for,  while  returning  to  Eng- 
land with  letters  from  Montrose  to  the  King,  he  was 
betrayed  to  the  Covenanters,  and  hanged  at  Edin- 
burgh.    His  courage  well  deserved  a  happier  fate. 


130  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

The  letters  that  James  Small  was  taking  so  faith- 
fully to  the  King,  falling  into  the  wrong  hands, 
betrayed  all  that  unhappy  monarch's  schemes  to 
his  enemies. 

When  they  found  that  Montrose  was  urging 
Charles  to  join  him  in  Scotland,  they  redoubled 
all  their  endeavours  to  crush  the  Cavaliers.  That, 
however,  was  by  no  means  an  easy  task ;  for,  hav- 
ing for  the  fourth  time  defeated  the  Covenanters, 
Montrose  perpetually  baffled  and  perplexed  their 
generals  with  his  erratic  marches.  His  perfect 
knowledge  of  the  Highlands  greatly  aided  him ;  and 
no  doubt  his  ultimate  success  would  have  been 
far  greater,  but  for  the  fatal  habit  of  the  clans- 
men, of  dispersing  with  their  spoils  whenever  any 
great  raid  or  battle  had  been  made,  fought,  or 
won. 

The  Cavaliers  were  thus  constantly  exposed  to 
the  loss  of  many  men ;  and  although  the  deserters 
invariably  returned,  Montrose  was  in  consequence 
frequently  at  great  disadvantage  from  the  uncertainty 
of  retaining  his  men. 

Soon  after,  traversing  the  Spey,  Montrose  learnt 
from  his  scouts  the  near  vicinity  of  General  Baillie, 
who  had  rapidly  advanced  after  Sir  John  Hurry's 
defeat. 

The  latter  brave  officer  was  ca^er  again  to  meet 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  1 3 1 

Montrose  in  battle,  and  if  he  could,  to  efface  the 
disgrace  of  his  recent  defeat 

The  armies  of  the  Covenanters  were  accompanied 
on  their  march  by  civilians,  delegated  by  the  Go- 
vernment to  watch  the  course  of  events,  and  direct 
them. 

In  vain  General  Baillie  urged  on  those  gentlemen 
that  his  men  were  but  young  recruits,  dispirited 
by  Sir  John  Hurry's  defeat ;  and  that  it  were  better 
to  delay  encountering  Montrose's  veteran  soldiers, 
flushed  with  victory.  He  was  ordered  at  all  risks 
to  fight. 

The  popular  leaders  were  beginning  to  realize  the 
value  of  military  fame.  Even  those  Highland 
gentlemen  who  had  hitherto  supported  the  Cove- 
nant, were  wavering  at  the  report  of  those  dazzling 
exploits  performed  by  the  Cavaliers  ;  and  every 
victory  gained  by  'the  great  Marquis'  added  to  the 
danger  of  the  Presbyterian  cause. 

General  Baillie  was  therefore  sternly  ordered  to 
advance,  and  fight  Montrose. 

Accompanied  by  Sir  John  Hurry  and  the  rem- 
rant  of  his  army,  Baillie  obeyed. 

As  soon  as  Montrose  had  ascertained  the  strength 
of  Baillie's  army,  he  was  irresolute  in  his  intention, 
and  halted  to  consider  his  position. 
.  The  Covenanters  had  taken  a  very  strong  place, 


132  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

an  almost  impregnable  pass  in  a  wood  called 
Coelarachie.  In  numbers,  Baillie's  men  were  superior 
to  the  royal  troops;  and  when  his  scouts  returned 
to  Montrose,  the  latter  saw  from  their  report  how 
difficult  it  would  be  to  dislodge  the  Covenanters 
from  that  position. 

Early  next  morning,  therefore,  Montrose  sent  a 
trumpeter  to  Baillie's  army  to  challenge  him  to  a 
pitched  battle. 

He  received  a  haughty,  spirited  answer:  '  Go,  tell 
your  master,'  said  Baillie,  '  I  will  not  be  ordered  by 
him  to  fight.  I  will  fight  him  when  and  where  I 
choose.' 

The  following  morning  the  Covenanters  missed 
their  foes.  They  had  rapidly  retreated.  Although 
the  Covenanters  immediately  pursued  them,  no 
trace  of  the  Redshanks  could  be  found.  They  were 
only  tracked  by  their  footprints  on  the  heather, 
which  showed  that  Montrose  had  once  more  re- 
treated into  Badenoch. 

There,  again,  Montrose  was  at  a  great  advantage 
over  his  enemies.  The  resources  of  that  land  were 
so  familiar  to  him,  that  he  always  knew  how  to 
procure  food  for  his  men.  Baillie's  troops,  on  the 
other  hand,  had  to  subsist  on  the  provisions  they 
carried  with  them  ;  and  when  they  were  eaten,  were 
fain  to  retire  to  Inverness  for  more. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  133 

The  long-desired  encounter  came  at  last,  close  to 
Alford  on  the  river  Don.  Although  the  army  of 
Montrose  was  again  strengthened  by  Lord  Huntly's 
return,  accompanied  by  Aboyne  and  several  of  the 
Gordons,  Baillie  believed  the  moment  to  be  advan- 
tageous for  a  battle.  He  learnt  that  Colkeitoch  was 
absent  with  a  large  body  of  men,  recruiting  in  the 
north  ;  and  although  he  knew  that  the  chances  of 
success  were  doubtful,  he  was  compelled,  owing  to 
the  rashness  of  Lord  Lindsay,  to  fight. 

That  nobleman  was  an  old  friend  of  Montrose's, 
but  an  ardent  Covenanter.  He  had  raised  a  troop 
of  soldiers,  and  in  order  to  harass  Montrose's  allies, 
had  ravaged  Athol,  especially  the  lands  of  the. 
Gordons,  and  threatened  the  Marquis  of  Huntly's 
fair  Castle  Bog,  then  defended  by  a  brave  Cavalier 
named  Gordon  of  Buckie.  In  order  to  extricate 
Lindsay  from  his  position — for  he  was  on  the  point 
of  being  attacked  by  Montrose's  men  —  Baillie 
thought  it  expedient  to  risk  the  issue  of  a  pitched 
battle. 

Montrose  was  standing  near  the  river-side  when 
he  was  told  that  Baillie's  army  were  within  one  mile 
of  Alford.  He  immediately  posted  his  men  on  a 
hill,  which  had  the  great  advantage  of  having  a 
marsh  full  of  pits  and  ditches  in  its  rear,  while  a 
steep  piece  of  rising  ground  hid  his  own  men.     The 


134  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or. 

Covenanters  then  crossed  the  fords  of  Don,  and 
proceeded  to  confront  their  enemy.  The  two  armies 
were  about  equal  in  numbers,  but  they  were  very 
differently  composed. 

Baiihe  commanded  an  army  of  hired  soldiers, 
mostly  raw  recruits,  who,  although  officered  by 
many  a  brave  gentleman,  did  not  fight  as  well  as 
the  Cavaliers,  who  were  led  to  the  field  by  their 
own  chiefs,  with  a  war-cry  that  spurred  them  on  to 
deeds  of  valour.  The  Highlanders  were  ready,  one 
and  all,  to  die  for  their  leaders.  Among  these  were 
the  brave  Huntly,  many  a  noble  Gordon,  Glengarry, 
young  Napier,  Macdonalds  and  Grahams.  The 
Redshanks,  although  by  this  time  a  well-drilled, 
well-disciplined  set  of  men,  looked  wild  and  terrific 
in  their  motley  garbs. 

The  Redshanks  carried  every  species  of  arms,  and 
wore  every  kind  of  headpiece  and  bonnet.  Targets 
and  shields  of  every  shape  and  fashion,  and  ancient 
guns  and  powder-horns,  the  spoil  of  many  a  bloody 
fray,  were  borne  by  these  wild  and  fearless  men, 
who,  with  claymores  in  their  hands,  their  dirks  by 
their  sides,  awaited  the  Covenanters. 

Whatever  stake  Montrose  had  in  the  battle,  to 
those  ignorant  but  devoted  men  the  issue  was 
simply  one  of  spoil  and  plunder.  Victory  to  them 
meant  rapine  and  bloodshed ;  but  devotion  to  their 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  135 

chief  was  their  religion,  and  as  long  as  each  clan 
was  led  by  its  rightful  captain,  Montrose  feared 
neither  desertion  nor  failure. 

In  the  centre  of  the  army,  near  the  King's 
standard,  stood  the  great  Marquis.  It  was  a  bright, 
warm  July  day  in  1645.  Baillie's  object  in  fording 
the  river  Don  had  been  to  station  a  body  of  men  to 
prevent  Montrose's  retreat  ;  and  Baillie's  cavalry 
was  commanded  by  the  valiant  Lindsay. 

As  the  Covenanters  sighted  the  Cavaliers,  one  of 
their  leaders  addressed  them  in  spirited  terms. 

'  Yonder  are  our  foes,'  cried  he,  raising  his  arm  in 
the  direction  of  the  Royalists.  '  It  is  their  custom  to 
make  the  first  attack  ;  don't  let  them  do  so  to-day. 
At  them,  and  at  once  ! ' 

But  before  his  men  could  answer  and  obey, 
Montrose  had  advanced ;  while  almost  at  the  same 
instant  the  Gordons  charged  Lord  Lindsay's  horse. 
If  the  Redshanks  were  valiant,  so  were  their  foes. 
They  met  the  Gordons'  fiery  charge  with  firmness 
and  courage ;  and  it  was  not  till  Lord  Gordon  and 
Colonel  Nathaniel  Gordon  had  literally  fought  inch 
by  inch  for  the  ground,  that  any  way  was  made 
by  the  Cavaliers  through  Lindsay's  gallant  band. 
After  great  slaughter,  at  last  the  latter  wavered. 
Montrose  bid  the  reserve  of  men,  commanded  by 
young  Napier,  to  advance.     The  musqueteers  closed 


136  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or^ 

on  the  enemy's  horse;  and,  amid  Nathaniel  Gordon's 
cries — '  Soldiers,  advance  !  throw  down  your  guns, 
draw  your  swords  and  your  dirks ;  kill  these  horse- 
men ;  hamstring  their  horses ;  to  close  quarters  ! ' 
— the  Covenanters  fairly  turned  and  fled  ! 

Two  troops  of  the  Presbyterian  army  having 
thue  given  way,  in  spite  of  Baillie's  personal  exer- 
tions, the  third  wavered  also.  The  Gordons  fought 
with  desperate  bravery,  maddened  by  the  sight  of 
a  large  head  of  cattle  that  Lindsay  and  his  men 
had  seized  in  their  country,  as  well  as  aroused  by 
Lord  Gordon's  promise  to  '  bring  Baillie  by  the 
throat  from  the  centre  of  his  men  J' 

Great  was  the  slaughter.  Baillie's  foot  soldiers, 
overtaken  by  the  infuriated  Gordons,  fell  beneath 
their  murderous  claymores,  and  but  few  of  the 
cavalry  would  have  escaped,  had  not  a  sad  loss 
taken  place  in  the  ranks  of  the  Cavaliers. 

Seizing  Baillie  by  the  sword-belt.  Lord  Gordon 
had  just  fulfilled  his  threat  of  capturing  the  great 
leader  of  the  Covenanters'  army,  when,  pierced  by  a 
bullet,  the  brave  and  beautiful  Cavalier  fell  mortally 
wounded  to  the  ground,  amid  his  men.  In  one 
moment  the  shouts  of  triumph,  the  cheers  of  victory, 
and  the  Highland  cries  of  battle  were  hushed,  and 
changed  into  a  long  prolonged  wail. 

'What!'    cried   his   followers,  'is   he  dead, — our 


Death  of  Lord  Gordon.— Page  136, 

'J7 


138  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

hero,  our  darling,  our  chief! — accursed  be  the  hand 
that  slew  him !  fatal  the  day  that  has  lost  us  the 
fairest  flower  of  all  our  clan  !' 

Throwing  down  their  weapons,  his  followers 
kissed  his  fair  face,  calm,  even  in  death,  as  it  lay- 
upturned  to  the  blue  skies,  wan,  white,  and 
still ! 

Montrose,  sorely  as  he  needed  all  his  energy  at 
that  trying  moment,  to  persuade  his  followers  to 
ensure  victory  by  a  vigorous  pursuit,  mingled  his 
tears  with  Lord  Gordon's  followers,  who  bitterly 
bewailed  his  loss. 

This  young  nobleman  possessed  a  fine  heart  and 
mind,  and  his  loss  to  Montrose  was  very  great 
indeed. 

Lord  Gordon  it  was,  who,  despite  his  father's 
jealousy,  and  Lord  Lewis's  double-dealing,  had 
firmly  attached  a  large  number  of  the  Gordons  to 
the  King's  side.  As  the  great  Marquis  leant  on  his 
sword,  gazing  on  the  dead  face  of  him  who  had 
been  so  true  a  friend,  well  might  he  feel  that  the 
victory  had  been  dearly  won.  He  had  beaten  his 
enemies,  but  lost  his  friend. 

As  to  the*  Gordons,  nothing  could  exceed  their 
sorrow,  as,  accompanied  by  Lord  Aboyne,  Mon- 
trose laid  the  gallant  chieftain's  body  in  a  tomb  in 
an  old  church  at  Aberdeen. 


The  Vow  of  MonU^ose.  139 

They  swore,  were  they 

'  Covenanting  traitors, 
Or  the  brood  of  false  Argyle,' 

to  be  avenged  on  those  whose  arms  had  killed  their 
'  beautiful  and  brave '  young  lord. 

Lord  Aboyne  was  now  heir  to  Lord  Huntly,  and 
although  much  discouraged  by  the  loss  of  his 
brother,  volunteered  to  go  into  his  own  country  to 
beat  up  recruits  for  the  royal  cause.  The  Marquis, 
while  waiting  for  him  and  Colkeitoch,  who  had  not 
yet  returned,  planned  another  daring  scheme. 

The  Scottish  Parliament,  in  spite  of  the  news  of 
the  battle  of  Naseby,  beginning  to  feel  their  fifth 
defeat,  were  much  depressed  at  the  sight  of  the 
large  number  of  gentlemen  who  now  openly  de- 
clared for  Montrose. 

Fever  was  raging  in  Edinburgh,  so  that  the 
Government  met  at  Stirling,  where  they  passed  a 
vote  of  thanks  to  General  Baillie  for  his  efforts  in 
the  north,  and  despite  his  defeat  at  Alford,  rein- 
stalled him  in  his  command. 

The  Scottish  Parliament  were  beginning  also  to 
see  that  Montrose  could  not  be  crushed  without  the 
most  determined  effort. 

They  resolved,  therefore,  to  raise  an  army  of 
I0,CX)0  men,  and  ordered  the  authorities  throughout 
the  Lowlands  to  forward  all  the  fighting  men  that 

K 


140  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

could  be  found  to  Perth,  by  the  end  of  the 
month. 

When  he  heard  that  the  Parliament  was  assembled 
at  Stirling,  Montrose  contemplated  the  daring  pro- 
ject of  scattering  it  by  a  rapid  march  on  that  place  ; 
but  when  he  was  told  that  they  were  raising  so 
large  an  army  against  him,  he  prudently  abandoned 
the  idea,  and  did  all  he  could  to  recruit  his  own 
forces. 

The  Marquis  had  established  his  camp  in  Angus, 
and  ere  long  w'as  joined  not  only  by  his  cousin 
Inchbrakie,  with  fresh  troops  of  attached  Athol 
men,  but  by  Colkeitoch  bringing  upwards  of  1000 
soldiers. 

Montrose,  standing  near  tjie  entrance  to  the  royal 
camp,  watched  700  gallant  Macleans,  led  by  their 
chiefs,  Macgregors  and  Macnabs,  defile  past,  fol- 
lowed by  500  of  the  Clanranald  men,  each  well 
provided  with  provisions  foraged  from  the  enemy's 
countries  on  the  road. 

The  leader  noted,  however,  one  youth  barely 
twenty  years  of  age,  who  carried  nothing.  Re- 
proached by  Colkeitoch  for  his  remissness,  Donald, 
for  so  was  he  called,  immediately  started  off  in 
search  of  plunder,  and  in  a  short  time  returned  with 
quite  enough  to  maintain  the  whole  of  the  Clan- 
ranald men  to  whom  he  belonged  ;    and  thereafter 


The  Vow  of  Mo7itrose.  141 

none,  it  was  said,  brought  more  *  creachs '  to  the 
camp  than  this  young  Highlander. 

All  this  time  Lord  Huntly  dallied  with  the  royal 
cause.  He  held  out  hopes  to  Montrose  of  his  join- 
ing the  royal  standard,  and  the  influence  of  his 
name  being  alone  needed,  now  that  Montrose 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  an  army  of  from  4000 
to  5000  men,  the  Covenanters  totally  defeated,  and 
the  Parliament  baffled.  Still  Lord  Huntly  lingered. 
Montrose  had  sent  Lord  Aboj^ne  at  the  head  of 
2000  clansmen,  to  guide  Lord  Huntly  to  his 
camp  ;  but  still  he  came  not. 

Chafing  at  the  delay,  Montrose  crossed  the  River 
Tay,  and  took  up  fresh  quarters  in  the  forest. 

He  was  only  five  miles  from  Perth ;  and  when 
news  of  his  dangerous  vicinity  reached  the  Cove- 
ranters  of  that  city, — at  which  place  the  Scottish 
Parliament  was  now  assembled,  the  plague  having 
reached  Stirling,  —  great  was  the  alarm.  They 
imagined  that  Montrose  intended  an  immediate 
assault  upon  the  town. 

The  authorities  were  all  in  favour  of  flight,  and 
entreated  the  heads  of  the  Parliament  to  adopt  that 
course.  Fortunately  they  did  not  follow  the  advice  ; 
for  Montrose,  without  cavalry,  had  no  intentions 
of  trying  to  take  the  place.  Although,  by  a  clever 
stratagem,  he  contrived   to  make  them  believe  he 


142  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

had  a  large  number  of  horsemen  at  rommand,  he  kept 
aloof  for  several  days  in  daily  hope  of  Lord  Aboyne's 
return  with  reinforcements.  It  was  not  for  a  day  or 
two  that  the  Covenanting  troops  found  out  how  the 
Marquis  had  tricked  them.  Then  they  unlocked 
the  city  gates  and  sallied  out  in  pursuit  of  their 
foe,  who,  however,  by  that  time  had  retreated 
towards  the  hilly  country  by  the  fords  of  Almond. 
A  band  of  volunteers,  about  300  Presbyterians,  con- 
tinued to  pursue  the  Cavaliers  long  after  their  leaders 
had  seen  how  hopeless  was  the  effort  to  overtake 
them.  They  even  contrived  to  considerably  annoy 
Montrose's  rearguard. 

Led  by  a  brave  man  named  Cornell,  the  Cove- 
nanters had  seized  several  baggage  horses  belong- 
ing to  the  Cavaliers,  when  a  shot  from  one  of  the 
Redshanks  ended  his  career,  and  allowed  Montrose 
to  retreat  in  good  order  towards  Dunkeld. 

The  Covenanters  did  not  retreat,  however,  before 
Montrose  gave  them  a  signal  lesson.  He  chose 
twenty  of  the  best  shots  in  his  army,  and  bid  them 
'  check  the  insolence  of  their  pursuers.' 

The  men  chosen,  accustomed  to  bring  down  the 
deer  of  their  mountains,  found  no  difficulty,  under 
cover  of  some  brushwood,  in  shooting  down  many  of 
the  finest  of  the  Covenanters'  soldiers.  One  by  one 
they  dropped   to  the   ground   pierced   to  the  heart 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  143 

by  such  unerring  marksmen  ;  while,  hurried  and 
affrighted,  the  others  not  only  abandoned  their  pur- 
suit, but  fled  precipitately  into  Perth. 

As  ill  luck  for  the  Cavaliers  would  have  it,  on 
their  way  back  they  passed  through  Methven  Forest. 
There  they  lighted  upon  the  wives  and  women  of  the 
Irish  and  Highlanders  of  Montrose's  army,  who  had 
been  left  behind,  and  in  the  most  brutal  manner  put 
every  one  of  them  to  death  in  cold  blood. 

At  last,  outside  Dunkeld,  where  Montrose  had 
pitched  his  camp,  almost  in  sight  of  his  enemy's  army, 
he  received  some  reinforcements  from  the  north  ;  but 
he  was  much  disappointed  when  he  found  that  their 
number  only  amounted  to  three  hundred  and  twenty. 
However,  as  several  loyal  Highland  gentlemen  of 
good  position  had  joined  him  at  the  same  time, — 
among  them  Alexander  Ogilvie  of  Inverquharity,  a 
youth  as  illustrious  by  his  bravery  and  talents  as  by 
his  ancient  descent, — Montrose  determined  to  again 
put  his  '  fortunes  to  the  touch,'  and  attack  the 
Covenanters.  His  scouts,  charged  to  ascertain  their 
exact  position,  brought  him  back  word  that  his  foes 
had  crossed  the  River  Earn,  and  were  in  full  retreat. 
The  Marquis,  preceded  by  Colonel  Nathaniel 
Gordon  and  Sir  William  Pollock,  who  led  a  small 
force  to  clear  the  way,  set  off  to  Kinross,  determined 
to  induce  the  enemy  to  meet  him  in  open  battle. 


144  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

On  the  road,  the  small  band  of  Cavaliers  who 
preceded  Montrose  fell  in  unexpectedly  with  two 
hundred  of  the  enemy.  The  Royalists  had  reduced 
their  number  to  twelve  men,  having  sent  all  the  rest 
of  their  band  off  to  scour  the  land  before  them  for 
news  of  the  enemy.  The  inequality  of  their  numbers 
was  very  great,  for  they  were  only  twelve  against 
nearly  two  hundred.  One  moment's  reflection 
showed  the  Cavaliers  that  retreat  was  impossible ; 
and  therefore  planting  themselves  against  a  hill,  they 
met  the  enemy's  attack  with  so  much  valour,  that 
they  put  the  Covenanters  to  flight,  and  even  took 
several  prisoners. 

After  such  a  brilliant  exploit,  you  may  be  sure  the 
dauntless  band  when  they  reached  the  main  army 
were  praised  by  shout  and  cheer. 

Montrose  knew  that  most  of  the  Fife  men  were 
fu-mly  attached  to  the  Presbyterian  religion,  and 
consequently  devoted  to  the  Covenanters'  cause. 
He  therefore  dreaded  the  possibility  of  General 
Baillie's  army  being  reinforced  before  he  could 
induce  him  to  meet  him  on  the  battle-field. 

Closely  followed  by  Baillie's  army,  yet  ravaging 

the  land  as  he  tramped  along  after  leaving  Fife,  in 

which  country  he  despaired  of  a  battle,  the  Marquis 

passed  Stirling  and  encamped  at  Kilsyth. 

•  His  principal  object  in  crossing  the  Forth  had 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  145 

been  to  draw  nearer  to  the  English  border,  where  he 
still  cherished  the  hope  of  joining  the  King. 

Such  a  junction  seemed  the  unfortunate  monarch's 
last  remaining  chance.  Naseby  had  been  fought 
and  lost,  and  the  Marquis's  whole  heart  was  set  on 
the  scheme  of  seeing  Charles  head  the  royal  cause  in 
Scotland  in  person,  and  save  at  least  his  Scottish 
crown. 

The  Covenanters,  after  marching  close  upon  his 
rear,  crossed  the  Carron,  and  taking  a  short  cut 
encamped  close  to  Kilsyth. 

Argyle  himself  partly  commanded  the  large 
Covenanting  army,  seven  thousand  strong,  that  now 
awaited  the  encounter,  but  Baillie  was  its  nominal 
and  discontented  leader.  He  had  rebelled  against 
the  dictation  to  which  Argyle's  presence,  and  that  of 
the  committee  appointed  by  the  Estates,  subjected 
him.  He  had  resigned  his  command  in  disgust,  but 
had  consented,  from  patriotic  motives,  to  retain  it 
another  fortnight.  The  very  day  that  the  rival  forces 
were  brought  face  to  face,  Baillie's  fortnight  expired. 

He  was  an  honest  and  good  soldier,  and  had 
openly  expressed  his  disapproval  of  Argyle's  inter- 
ference. He  was  therefore  in  no  temper  to  hide  it 
when  the  latter  asked  his  advice  as  to  the  next  step 
to  be  taken.  When  he  saw  the  superiority  of 
Montrose's  position,  sheltered  behind  some  cottages 


1 46  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

and  gardens,  Baillie  again  declared  that  his  mind 
misgave  him  as  to  the  advisability  of  fighting. 

*  If  the  rebels  engage  us  there,'  he  said,  *  they  will 
have  the  advantage  ;  and  to  lose  the  day  is  to  lose 
the  kingdom ! ' 

He  was  overborne  by  the  arguments  of  others, 
and  forced  to  carry  out  Argyle's  orders.  Reluctantly 
he  ordered  his  men  to  advance  towards  the  hill  on 
which  the  great  Marquis  had  drawn  up  his  Cavaliers 
in  battle  array. 

Up  to  the  last  moment,  Montrose  had  been  un- 
decided about  fighting ;  but  when  he  saw  that, 
although  the  Covenanters  had  a  great  advantage  in 
numbers,  his  position  was  unquestionably  the  better, 
he  hesitated  no  longer. 

*We  have,'  he  exclaimed,  'the  best  ground,  and 
that  is  more  than  half  the  battle.' 

Standing  on  a  little  raised  mound  surveying  the 
Highlanders, — a  gallant  band  indeed,  and  ready  for 
any  deed  of  daring, — the  royal  banner  flying,  his 
blood  bounding  through  every  vein,  as  he  thought 
that  were  he  to  win  another  battle  he  should  see  his 
King  righted  at  last,  the  face  of  Montrose  paled,  for 
he  heard  a  murmur  among  his  tartaned  bands. 

'  What  is  it .''  what !  is  it  possible }  can  they  fear 
those  mounted  Covenanters  whose  glittering  breast- 
plates flash  in  the  sun  before  them  } ' — for  the  first  of 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  147 

Baillie's  regiments  planted  opposite  the  Redshanks 
was  one  of  dragoons.  '  By  heavens !  they  do,'  he 
cried,  as  loud  murmurs  strike  upon  his  ear  that  they 
fear  to  attack  '  iron-clad  soldiers,'  on  whom  '  no 
claymore  could  avail.' 

To  hesitate  were  to  lose  ground  ;  and  in  a  moment 
Montrose  had  hit  upon  an  expedient  to  allay  this 
new  difficulty.  '  Clansmen,'  cried  he, — his  sweet 
voice  rising  loud  and  clear, — 'you  have  beaten 
yonder  cowards  at  Tippermuir,  Auldearn,  and 
Alford  ;  their  officers  dare  not  lead  them  against 
you  except  in  coats  of  mail.  A  Highlander  who 
meets  his  foe  on  Scottish  ground  needs  no  such 
iron  coverings.  Let  us  show  our  contempt  of  them 
by  fighting  them  in  our  shirts  !  * 

Setting  them  the  example,  he  bid  them  strip  to 
the  waist ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  Cavaliers, 
divested  of  all  cumbersome  clothing,  were  prepared 
to  make  the  assault. 

Montrose's  '  pluck  '  struck  the  right  chord.  Not 
content  with  taking  off  their  upper  garments  and 
turning  up  their  shirt  sleeves,  the  foot  soldiers 
actually  stripped  themselves  to  the  shirt,  and  pre- 
sented to  the  astonished  Covenanters  the  novel 
spectacle  of  a  nearly  naked  army  ! 

The  first  movement  made  by  the  Covenanters 
was  towards  some  gardens  in.  which  Montrose  had 


148  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

planted  some  of  his  advanced  guard.  They  were 
repulsed  by  the  gunners,  who,  stationed  behind  walls 
and  fences,  fired  hotly  on  their  assailants.  A  loud 
shout  from  the  Redshanks  greeted  this  first  turn  of 
victory  in  their  favour. 

A  gallant  but  imprudent  youth  named  Donald, 
son  of  the  chief  of  the  Clanranald  clan,  was  carried 
away  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment.  Waving 
his  claymore,  he  leapt  past  the  Macleans, — who 
being  more  obedient  soldiers,  had  hesitated  before 
attacking  the  enemy  without  their  general's  orders, — 
and,  followed  by  all  his  men,  met  the  enemy  face  to 
face,  and  hand  to  hand. 

This  adventurous  band  was  followed  by  the 
Macgregors,  headed  by  their  chief  Patrick,  a  warrior 
so  brave  that  he  was  also  called  '  Caoch,'  a  Gaelic 
word  signifying  great  valour,  while  Colkeitoch  and 
his  band  followed  more  slowly. 

Montrose  knit  his  brows  angrily  when  he  saw  his 
Redshanks  thus  fighting  before  they  had  received 
his  orders ;  but  as  he  marked  their  courage  and 
bravery,  he  forgave  them  their  disobedience  in 
sympathizing  with  their  enthusiasm. 

The  battle  of  Kilsyth  would  have  turned  out  a 
defeat  instead  of  a  victory  for  the  Royalists,  had  not 
Montrose's  ready  wit  again  saved  his  cause.  Look- 
ing eagerly  after  his  rash  Highlanders,  he  saw  that 


The  Vow  of  Montj^ose.  149 

they  must  be  cut  to  pieces  were  not  they  instantly 
supported.  The  Covenanters  were  brave  soldiers 
too  ;  moreover,  they  were  double  the  nurnber  of 
their  assailants.  The  Cavaliers,  compelled  to  fight 
up  a  hill,  were  on  the  point  of  being  overmatched 
and  slain,  when  Colkeitoch  rushed  to  their  aid. 
Even  his  valuable  assistance  was  but  small  in  com- 
parison with  their  necessity.  The  slowness  with 
which  Baillie's  rear  came  forward  to  the  aid  of  the 
van  of  his  forces,  the  only  part  of  his  army  engaged 
at  that  time,  aided  the  IVIarquis  in  collecting  his 
ideas.  He  saw  that  the  remainder  of  his  regiments 
hesitated  to  obey  his  eager  commands  that  his  Red- 
shanks should  be  reserved. 

Montrose  went  hastily  up  to  the  aged  Earl  of 
Airlie,  who  was  standing  at  the  head  of  the  Ogilvies. 

*  My  lord,'  said  he,  '  you  see  the  scrape  into  which 
yonder  mad  youths  have  fallen  by  their  precipitate 
valour.  All  men's  eyes  are  fixed  on  your  lordship, 
for  your  rank  entitles  you  to  precede  all  others  in 
showing  foolhardy  youth  that  discretion  and  valour 
united  to  age  can  redeem  the  day.' 

The  venerable  Earl,  a  model  of  loyal  fidelity, 
immediately  undertook  the  commission.  Followed 
by  all  the  Ogilvies,  and  guarded  by  a  troop  of  horse, 
he  led  his  men  to  the  charge. 

Their    vigorous    attack    completely    routed     the 


T50  The  Fiery  Cross. 

enemy's  infantry,  which  fell  back  in  great  confusion. 
The  rest  of  the  Cavaliers  no  sooner  saw  the  rebels 
waver,  than  they  rushed  forward  and  completed  the 
victory.  The  Covenanters  were  pursued  for  miles 
by  the  victorious  Cavaliers.  The  banks  and  braes 
of  the  roads  along  which  the  Covenanters  fled 
were  stained  with  blood.  The  Redshanks  gave  no 
quarter,  and  between  5000  and  6000  of  the  enemy 
were  slain.  As  they  fled  towards  Stirling  or  the 
sea,  they  fell  by  hundreds  beneath  their  adversaries' 
claymores.  Montrose's  loss  was  but  small  in  com- 
parison ;  though  so  bloody  was  the  day,  that  for  a 
hundred  a;id  fifty  years  after  the  battle  of  Kilsyth,  it 
was  recorded  among  the  peasantry  as  the  most  fatal 
of  all  in  that  memorable  war.  The  Cavaliers  spared 
few  lives  that  dreadful  day ;  but  at  Montrose's 
express  orders  several  prisoners  of  distinction  were 
saved  from  death,  and  those  he  treated  well,  and 
after  a  time  released.  For  the  third  time,  Argylc 
owed  his  life  to  a  boat.  Flying  to  a  little  port 
called  Queensferry,  he  reached  a  vessel  anchored  in 
the  Firth  of  Forth,  and  hurriedly  put  out  to  sea. 
Never  was  a  victory  more  complete  than  that  of 
Kilsyth,  and  perhaps  during  the  whole  of  the  Scot- 
tish civil  wars,  none  more  bloody.  The  shouts  of 
his  vindictive  soldiery,  as  they  butchered  the  flying 
fo^  were  borne  back  to  Montrose. 


Ite... 


^^^'^.i^#^^ 


CHAPTER   V. 

*  Let  no  man  to  more  love  pretend 
Than  he  has  hearts  in  store  ; 
True  love  begun  shall  never  end. 
Love  one  and  love  no  more.' 

— Marquis  of  Montrose. 

EFORE  pursuing  the  romantic  history  of 
Montrose,  or  contrasting  his  victorious 
position  after  the  battle  of  Kilsyth  with 
former  apparently  hopeless  fortunes,  when,  dis- 
guised as  a  groom,  he  had  crossed  the  border  with 
only  three  companions  to  invade  a  kingdom,  we 
must  turn  and  see  what  the  unfortunate  Charles,  for 
whom  he  was  fighting,  was  doing  in  England. 

Cromwell,  invincible  by  his  clear  intellect  and 
masterly  policy,  as  much  as  by  his  personal  courage, 
was  subduing  one  after  the  other,  every  town,  castle, 
or  fortified  house  that  still  held  out  for  the  King. 
The  hopes  of  the  Royalists  fell  with  the  battle  of 


152  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

Naseby  ;  and  the  course  of  events  all  tended  towards 
the  fall  of  the  monarchy  in  England.  Charles  had 
fled  into  Wales,  before  taking  refuge  afterwards  at 
Oxford,  and  was  slowly  forming  the  fatal  resolution 
of  throwing  himself  on  the  mercy  of  the  Scots.  The 
unfortunate  King  still  fondly  believed  that  their 
ancient  affection  to  his  family  and  crown  would 
revive  at  the  evidence  that  he  believed  their  loyalty 
would  prove  stronger  than  their  fanaticism. 

The  Covenanters,  however,  saw  only  in  Charles 
the  First  a  chief  obstacle  to  the  darling  idea  of  all 
its  Calvinistic  adherents,  and  that  was,  that  were 
the  monarchy  overthrown,  the  Presbyterian  faith 
would  become  universal  in  England  as  well  as  in 
Scotland.  The  Covenanters  laid  siege  to  Newark, 
which  still  held  out  for  Charles,  a  large  army 
having  been  sent  from  Scotland  to  the  aid  of  the 
Parliament. 

While  Charles  was  therefore  slowly  but  surely 
rushing  to  the  saddest  doom  that  ever  befell  an 
English  king,  Montrose,  after  Kilsyth,  found  him- 
self on  the  road  to  the  attainment  of  the  object 
for  which  he  had  taken  up  arms,  and  unfurled  the 
royal  standard  in  Scotland.  That  object  was  to 
clear  the  whole  of  the  north  by  his  arms,  and  so 
prepare  the  way  for  its  recovery  by  his  sovereign. 

The    Covenanters    in    Scotland    were,    for    the 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  153 

moment,  completely  vanquished.  Two  of  their 
foremost  men  had  fled  to  Ireland;  Argyle  and 
others  had  taken  refuge  in  Berwick,  a  strongly 
fortified  place ;  and  although  Montrose  had  laid 
waste  the  land,  the  whole  of  Scotland  rang  with 
his  praises.  His  cruelty  in  many  cases — for  even 
his  best  friends  acknowledged  he  had  sometimes 
been  cruel — was  forgotten  in  his  success ;  while  his 
resolution  and  firmness,  his  patience  and  virtues, 
were  extolled,  till,  from  being  held  up  to  public 
abhorrence,  he  was  magnified  and  flattered  into  a 
hero.  After  the  battle  of  Kilsyth  he  was  openly 
acknowledged  as  Charles's  representative  in  Scot- 
land, and  many  influential  noblemen,  who  up  to 
that  time  had  not  only  held  back  from  the  royal 
cause,  but  even  openly  sided  with  the  Covenanters, 
now  flocked  round  Montrose  to  pay  him  court,  and 
to  offer  him  their  support. 

The  plague  was  raging  in  Edinburgh,  and  the 
news  of  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Kilsyth  struck  con- 
sternation into  the  hearts  of  all  its  citizens.  Well 
had  they  reason  to  dread  Montrose,  for  the  capital 
had  been  the  principal  focus  of  rebellion,  while  im- 
prisoned in  its  Tolbooth  were  several  of  the  hero's 
dearest  friends. 

After  marching  to  Glasgow,  the  first  thought  of 
Montrose  was  to  release  those  prisoners.      Had  it 


154  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

not  been  for  the  risk  of  exposing  his  men  to  the 
disease  then  raging  in  the  city,  he  would  have 
marched  to  Edinburgh  directly  after  the  battle  of 
Kilsyth. 

Montrose  only  remained  a  few  days  at  Glasgow  ; 
but  during  his  visit  there,  the  citizens  vied  with  each 
other  m  abject  politeness.  They  presented  him 
with  a  large  sum  in  gold  ;  and  the  hero,  anxious  to 
propitiate  his  newly-found  adherents,  and  fearful  lest 
his  Highland  followers  should  be  tempted  to  plunder 
the  wealthy  citizens,  soon  marched  out  again. 

He  encamped  at  a  place  called  Bothwell  Moor, 
about  twelve  miles  from  Glasgow.  Charles,  after 
visiting  Raglan  Castle  and  Hereford,  had  now 
reached  Oxford,  whence  he  sent  off  two  trusty 
messengers  to  Montrose.  One  was  a  President 
Spottiswoode,  the  other  an  Englishman  named 
Sandilands.  These  trusty  messengers  had  been 
compelled  to  take  a  most  circuitous  route  to  avoid 
falling  into  the  enemy's  hands  ;  and  the  bearer  of 
his  royal  master's  commission  to  the  Marquis  of 
Montrose,  to  act  as  '  Lieutenant  -  Governor,  and 
General  of  all  His  Majesty's  forces'  in  Scotland,  Sir 
•Robert  Spottiswoode,  who  was  devotedly  attached 
to  the  King,  had  reached  Glasgow  from  Wales  by 
the  Isle  of  Man,  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  and 
through  Athol. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  155 

The  royal  commission  was  formally  presented  to 
the  Marquis  at  a  review  of  his  whole  troops,  under 
the  royal  standard.  Montrose  was  also  empowered 
in  the  King's  name  to  convene  a  Parliament  at 
Glasgow. 

In  the  meantime,  Montrose  had  sent  two  of  his 
most  attached  adherents,  the  Master  of  Napier  and 
Colonel  Nathaniel  Gordon,  to  summon  Edinburgh 
to  release  the  Royalist  prisoners,  and  submit  to  the 
King. 

The  Lieutenant's  deputies  were  supported  by  the 
persuasive  presence  of  a  party  of  warriors,  who, 
should  the  capital  resist,  were  ordered  to  employ  the 
arguments  of  *  fire  and  the  sword '  to  bring  it  to 
reason. 

No  such  harsh  measures,  however,  were  needed. 
The  prisoners,  among  whom  were  the  Earl  of  Craw- 
ford, the  gallant  Lord  Ogilvie,  and  several  others 
eminent  for  loyalty,  were  instantly  released  the 
moment  the  Edinburgh  authorities  heard  of  young 
Napier's  errand. 

The  Cavaliers  did  not  enter  Edinburgh  for  fear  of 
the  plague,  but  sent  a  message  to  the  town,  command- 
ing it  to  surrender. 

Such  was  the  dread  inspired  by  the  very  name  of 
Montrose  at  that  time,  that  no  servility  seemed  too 
great  to  those  poor  bewildered   burghers  to  show 


156  The  Fiery  Cross  ;,  or; 

their  prisoners.  Those  whom  they  had  but  so  lately- 
treated  most  severely  were  implored  to  intercede  for 
them  to  the  King's  lieutenant 

Their  two  principal  prisoners,  Lords  Crawford  and 
Ogilvie,  advised  them  to  submit  unconditionally  to 
Montrose,  and  to  send  two  delegates  to  the  hero's 
camp  to  plead  their  cause. 

The  citizens  took  their  advice,  and,  accompanied 
by  Lords  Crawford  and  Ogilvie,  set  off  to-  the 
Cavaliers'  quarters. 

The  Master  of  Napier  on  his  road  to  Edinburgh 
had  released  several  of  his  own  relations,  among 
them  his  father,  wife,  and  sisters,  on  whom  the 
Scottish  Government  had  wreaked  their  vengeance 
against  the  royal  cause. 

Those  unfortunate  prisoners,  highly  delighted 
when  the  Master  of  Napier  released  them  at  Linlith- 
gow, all  went  back  to  Montrose. 

No  one  could  be  more  gracious  in  the  hour  of 
triumph  than  Montrose.  Instead  of  reproaching  the 
Edinburgh  delegates,  he  told  them  that,  provided 
they  were  loyal  for  the  future,  and  gave  up  Edin- 
burgh Castle  and  all  its  arms  and  ammunition  to 
the  King,  as  well  as  releasing  all  their  prisoners, 
he  would  intercede  for  them  with  their  naturally 
indignant  sovereign.  The  deputies  were  perfectly 
ready  to  promise  all  should  be  performed  as  Mon- 


The  Voiu  of  Montrose.  157 

trose  wished.  They  acted  according  to  that  pro- 
mise just  as  long  as  the  royal  influence  was  in  the 
ascendant,  and  no  longer ;  for  at  heart  they  were 
rank  Covenanters,  far  from  sincere  in  their  professions 
of  loyalty  to  Montrose  and  his  cause. 

In  the  meantime,  Montrose  had  sent  Colkeitoch 
and  Drummond  of  Balloch  to  quell  a  rising  among 
the  western  Covenanters,  under  the  Lords  Cassilis, 
Eglinton,  and  Glencairn. 

When,  however,  the  Cavaliers  reached  the  west  of 
Scotland,  they  found  that,  far  from  offering  resistance, 
the  counties  of  Ayr  and  Renfrew  were  all  anxious  to 
seal  past  offences,  and  take  the  oath  of  allegiance. 

Many  who  had  been  red-hot  rebels  were  among  the 
most  forward  in  their  offers  to  Montrose  ;  and  none 
greeted  Colkeitoch,  lately  knighted  by  Montrose, 
more  warmly  than  the  Countess  of  Loudon,  whose 
husband  was  one  of  the  first  supporters  of  the 
Covenant. 

She  feasted  him  with  the  best  her  castle  could 
afford,  and  sent  her  own  servant  back  with  a  formal 
message  of  respect  to  the  Marquis.  Indeed,  this 
lady's  conduct  illustrates  thp  effect  produced  all  over 
Scotland  by  the  battle  of  Kilsyth.  The  Marquis  had 
thus  every  reason  to  expect  success  in  his  cherished 
idea  of  joining  the  King  on  the  border.  There  he 
knew  he  could  count  on  the  assistance  of  several 


158  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

devoted  English  Cavaliers,  such  as  Sir  Marmadiike 
Langdale,  Sir  Richard  Hutton,  high-sheriff  of  York- 
shire, and  his  relative  Colonel  Anthony  Byerley,  in 
Durham.  The  last-named  gentleman  had  indeed 
already  mortgaged  his  estates  to  raise  a  regiment 
long  called  the  *  Byerley  bull-dogs  '  for  the  service  of 
the  King. 

Two  things  now  occurred  to  make  the  success  of 
such  a  plan  doubtful.  Argyle  and  the  leaders  of 
the  Presbyterian  party,  although  no  longer  the  idols 
of  their  nation,  were  bent  on  one  more  struggle  to 
destroy  Montrose,  Shut  up  in  Berwick,  they  had 
hailed  with  delight  the  arrival  of  General  Leslie  at 
the  head  of  his  famous  cavalry,  numbering  six 
thousand  strong. 

This  general  had  been  summoned  by  the  Cove- 
nanters to  redeem,  if  possible,  the  Presbyterian 
cause.  He  was  no  mean  adversary,  for  at  the  battle 
of  Marston  Moor  it  was  his  troop  that  partly  won 
the  day. 

Montrose  by  this  time  had  already  sent  the 
Marquis  of  Douglas  and  Lord  Ogilvie  into  Dumfries- 
shire to  raise  fresh  levies  for  the  King.  Perhaps, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  advice  of  several  insincere 
friends,  who,  although  they  were  Royalists  by  pro- 
fession, were  Covenanters  at  heart,  our  hero  might 
still  have  saved  Charles  by  hurrying  to  the  border 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  159 

before  Leslie  had  had  time  to  reach  Berwick.  But 
he  waited,  and  the  opportunity  vanished  with  the 
delay. 

In  the  meantime,  Colkeitoch  and  his  Highlanders 
deserted  the  royal  standard. 

It  was  the  clansmen's  custom  to  return  home  after 
victory,  for  the  twofold  purpose  of  securing  their 
spoil,  and  chanting  their  success  among  their  own 
people ;  but  Montrose  knew  that  to  lose  such  a 
large  portion  of  his  troops  at  that  critical  moment, 
would  go  far  to  rob  his  recent  success  of  its  fruits. 

Although  in  the  hour  of  battle  none  were  so 
faithful  to  him,  Montrose's  fame  suffered  much  from 
his  wild  and  lawless  Redshanks.  As  they  were 
unpaid  soldiers,  the  Marquis  was  often  compelled  to 
permit  several  derelictions  of  martial  law  in  his 
Highland  followers. 

He  now  used  every  argument  to  persuade  them 
to  remain  ;  but  though  Macdonald,  who  volunteered 
to  lead  them  home,  promised  their  speedy  return, 
Montrose,  with  his  usual  acuteness,  saw  that  beneath 
this  desertion  there  was  a  deeper  purpose,  and  that 
the  reason  alleged  by  the  Athol  men,  that  they 
must  return  to  repair  their  dwellings,  burnt  and 
injured  by  the  Covenanters,  was  a  mere  subterfuge. 
Nor  was  he  wrong.  Allaster  Macdonald,  now 
knighted,  was  longing  to  go  into  Argyle's  country. 


i6o  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

He  burned  to  revenge  the  ancient  injuries  the 
Campbells  had  inflicted  on  his  race  ;  and,  find- 
ing that  he  could  now  command  a  large  band, 
thought  the  moment  for  revenge  of  private  wrongs 
might  well  be  seized. 

Montrose  watched  his  departure,  followed  by  six 
hundred  and  twenty  men,  five  hundred  of  whom 
were  his  own  clansmen  ;  and  as  they  left  his  camp, 
his  eye  rested  upon  his  once  faithful  officer  for  the 
last  time.  They  never  met  again,  those  two  brave 
men  ;  and  with  Colkeitoch's  departure,  the  royal 
cause  began  to  fail  in  Scotland. 

This  desertion  was  soon  followed  by  another. 
Lord  Aboyne,  under  pretence  of  convoying  his 
father,  Lord  Huntly,  safely  to  Montrose,  insisted 
on  retiring  to  the  Highlands  with  all  the  Gordons. 

Had  Huntly,  whose  very  name  was  powerful 
beyond  the  Grampians,  been  above  the  petty 
jealousy  which  from  first  to  last  hindered  him  from 
joining  the  Marquis,  the  result  of  the  civil  wars  of 
Scotland  had  been  different ;  and  Charles  the  First 
safe  among  his  faithful  Highlanders,  the  crime  of 
regicide  might  even  then  have  been  spared  to 
England. 

It  must  have  been  but  with  very  dim  hopes  of 
success  that  Montrose  at  last  started  for  the  border. 
In  vain  had  he,  with  all  his  persuasive  eloquence, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  i6i 

tried  to  retain  Lord  Aboyne  if  *  only  for  one  week 
longer.'  That  nobleman,  for  some  hidden  reasons  of 
his  own,  however,  was  bent  on  going  home  ;  and 
after  seeing  Macdonald  and  the  Athol  men  march 
off,  the  Marquis  had  to  confront  the  fact  Avhen  the 
Gordons  too  had  departed.  Independent  of  the 
Ogilvies,  a  small  but  faithful  band,  and  the  Irish 
brigade,  about  five  to  seven  hundred  in  number,  his 
army  was  no  longer  a  well-disciplined  one,  but  a 
mere  mob  of  untried  recruits. 

Nevertheless,  he  set  off  and  joined  Douglas  and 
Ogilvie,  marching  past  Edinburgh  and  through  the 
Lothians,  till  he  reached  Dumfriesshire.  Douglas 
and  Ogilvie  had  been  very  unsuccessful  in  their 
expedition  in  the  southern  part  of  Scotland,  for 
the  greater  number  of  its  inhabitants  were  devoted 
to  the  Covenant,  and  violently  opposed  to  the 
monarchy. 

Doubtless,  as  Montrose  marched  along,  he  hoped 
to  hear  that  either  Charles  himself,  or  Digby,  Earl 
of  Bristol,  who  had  always  strenuously  promoted 
the  Marquis's  cause  at  Court,  was  ready  to  effect  a 
junction  with  him  ;  for  numerous  letters  had  passed 
between  Charles  and  his  Scottish  lieutenant,  in  all 
of  which  the  latter  was  urged  to  rely  on  the  loyalty 
of  the  border  lords,  and  to  expect  '  a  party  of  horse ' 
frpm  England. 


1 62  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

Charles,  irresolute  and  wavering,  had  lost  by  his 
want  of  firmness  his  last  chance.  While  intending 
to  meet  Montrose,  he  had  lingered  recruiting  at 
Doncaster,  and  even  missed  an  excellent  opportunity 
of  intercepting  Leslie  while  on  his  northward  road. 

Now  Leslie  was  close  to  Montrose  with  a  splendid 
troop  of  cavalry ;  and  the  Marquis,  deserted  by  his 
Highlanders,  was  advancing,  in  the  vain  hope  of 
meeting  the  King. 

Perhaps,  after  so  many  brilliant  victories,  our 
hero  may  have  been  too  confident  of  success,  and 
neglected  the  usual  precautions  of  war  ;  at  any  rate, 
Leslie  was  close  upon  him,  while  Montrose,  busy  in 
despatching  letters  to  the  King,  was  falsely  assured 
by  his  scouts  no  enemy  was  to  be  seen. 

On  the  Cavaliers'  road  south  they  had  met  the 
Earl  of  Traquair,  a  nobleman  secretly  attached  to 
Argyle's  party,  although  at  that  time  professing 
devotion  to  the  royal  cause. 

Unaware  of  his  real  sentiments,  and  misled  by  his 
professions,  Montrose  confided  to  Traquair  all  his 
plans  ;  and  while  the  latter  promised  to  keep  him 
informed  of  Leslie's  movements,  he  had  treacher- 
ously determined  to  betray  them. 

Traquair  also,  to  mask  his  real  sentiments,  sent 
Montrose  a  troop  of  horse,  under  his  eldest  son, 
Lord  Linton. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  i6 


J 


Montrose  was  much  disappointed  that  the  Lords 
Home  and  Roxburghe  neither  sent  messages  to  him 
as  he  passed  through  their  country,  nor  invited  him 
to  their  houses. 

The  Marquis,  iu  no  mood  to  overlook  a  slight, 
was  on  the  point  of  paying  them  a  visit,  with  every 
intention  of  enforcing  their  adherence  to  the  royal 
cause  by  the  sword,  when  he  heard  that  they  had 
been  carried  off  as  prisoners  by  Leslie. 

This  was  nothing  but  a  ruse  on  the  part  of  those 
noblemen  ;  for  they  had  prevailed  on  Leslie  to  take 
them  prisoners,  purposely  to  avoid  the  wrath  of 
Montrose,  and  at  the  same  time  to  keep  in  both 
with  the  Covenanters  and  Cavaliers. 

Finding  that  no  reinforcements  reached  him  from 
Charles,  and  that  the  border  lords  were  so  tardy  and 
indeed  averse  to  joining  him,  Montrose  determined 
to  abandon  his  scheme  and  retreat  to  the  Highlands. 

He  therefore  marched  to  Jedburgh,  and  thence  to 
Selkirk,  and  at  length  encamped  on  the  plain  of 
Philiphaugh,  where,  being  sheltered  by  a  wood,  he 
fondly  hoped  that  the  camp  was  protected  from  a 
surprise. 

Misled  by  Traquair's  perfidy,  —  for,  instead  of 
sending  Montrose  word  of  Leslie's  whereabouts,  that 
nobleman  has  been  accused  of  sending  word  to  the 
Covenanters  of  the  Marquis's  weakness  in  point  of 


164  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

numbers,  and  his  intention  of  retreating  to  the 
Highlands, — our  hero,  instead  of  remaining  with 
the  main  body  of  his  army,  took  up  his  own  quarters 
in  a  village  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  in  com- 
pany with  Lords  Napier,  Airlie,  and  Crawford. 

Unfortunately  for  the  Cavaliers,  a  dense  mist 
favoured  General  Leslie's  advance,  and  prevented 
the  Royalists  from  seeing  his  approach. 

The  Covenanters,  guided  by  a  peasant,  reached 
the  fatal  plain  of  Philiphaugh,  along  the  southern 
side  of  the  Tweed,  across  the  River  Ettrick,  and 
were  almost  between  Montrose's  headquarters  and 
his  camp  before  the  latter  even  knew  they  were  in 
that  part  of  the  country. 

Unmindful  of  danger,  and  his  heart  still  bent  on 
joining  the  King,  Montrose  had  sat  up  the  whole  of 
the  previous  night  engaged  in  writing  despatches  to 
urge  Charles  to  send  him  instant  help.  Personal 
supervision  of  his  soldiers  being  impossible  that 
night,  the  Marquis  had  confided  the  duty  of  posting 
the  sentinels  to  his  captains,  while  the  first  sound  of 
firing  next  day  that  struck  upon  his  ear,  as  Leslie's 
trumpets  sounded,  and  his  brigades  attacked  the 
Royalists,  came  too  late  to  save  him.  All  the 
honour  he  had  won  at  Kilsyth,  and  the  position  he 
had  gained,  was  fated  to  vanish  away  in  the  mists  of 
Philiphaugh. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  165 

He  flung  himself  upon  his  horse  and  rushed  to  the 
camp,  where  he  found  his  soldiers  alarmed  and  sur- 
prised, and  in  the  greatest  disorder.  Orders  having 
been  given  the  night  before  to  prepare  for  a  day's 
march,  the  Cavaliers,  at  the  moment  of  the  attack, 
were  preparing  for  the  road. 

Half  an  hour  before  daybreak,  the  steel-clad 
Presbyterian  cavalry  had  attacked  the  Royalists' 
right  wing.  It  was  a  damp  September  morning, 
the  thirteenth  of  the  month  (1645).  In  spite  of 
those  well-disciplined  troops  having  more  than  half 
the  advantage  on  their  side  over  Montrose's  raw 
levies,  they  were  at  first  repulsed.  Again,  once  more 
the  Royalists  threw  those  iron  brigades  into  disorder  ; 
but  when  they  found  that  as  soon  as  one  regiment  re- 
tired another  came  up,  they  threw  down  their  arms 
and  begged  for  quarter,  or  fled  for  their  lives. 

Hapless  Montrose  !  In  vain,  at  the  head  of  thirty 
Cavaliers,  principally  Scottish  gentlemen  of  noble 
and  gentle  blood,  he  fought  with  desperate  valour — 
the  day  was  lost  beyond  redemption.  He  would 
have  fought  on  till  he  fell,  had  not  his  friends 
dragged  him  from  that  fatal  plain. 

'  Live  !  live  ! '  cried  Douglas,  '  to  redeem  the  day.* 

It  is  said  that  at  the  very  moment  Queen  Hen- 
rietta Maria,  a  fugitive  in  Paris,  was  offering  up  a 
thanksgiving  for  the  victory  of  Kilsyth,  its  victor 


1 66  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

was  retreating,  and  his  whole  army,  except  a  very- 
small  remnant,  slain  or  prisoners.  His  way  was 
up  the  Yarrow,  and  across  Minch  Moor  towards 
Peebles,  where  he  rested  a  few  hours. 

Overtaking  a  regiment  of  his  own  men,  and  re- 
joined, to  his  great  joy,  by  Lords  Crawford  and 
Airlie,  who  had  escaped  by  another  road,  Montrose, 
broken-hearted  yet  not  despairing,  crossed  the  Clyde, 
and,  at  the  head  of  about  two  hundred  men,  retired 
to  the  Highlands. 

The  Covenanters  had  not  only  treacherously 
slaughtered  almost  the  whole  of  Montrose's  Irish 
brigade,  after  they  had  surrendered  on  the  promise 
of  quarter,  but  amid  open  rejoicings,  in  which  the 
canting  Calvinistic  clergyman  quoted  Scripture,  they 
executed  a  numerous  company  of  prisoners,  number- 
ing among  them  some  of  Scotland's  most  honoured 
names.  The  royal  standards  were,  however,  not 
destined  to  fall  into  their  hands,  for  both  were 
gallantly  saved  and  given  back  to  the  *  great  Mar- 
quis '  by  the  brave  men  who  carried  them.  Two  ol 
the  captains  of  the  Irish  brigade,  named  O'Ryan 
and  Lachlin,  were  reserved  for  a  public  execution  at 
Edinburgh,  where  (when  Leslie,  returning  to  Lothian 
after  Philiphaugh,  had  liberated  the  leaders  of  the 
Covenant  shut  up  in  BerAvick)  their  sentence  was 
publicly  carried  out  on  the  Castle  Hill. 


llie  Vow  of  Montrose.  167 

A  meaner  soul  than  that  animating  our  hero's 
body  would,  crushed  by  such  a  blow,  have  suc- 
cumbed under  fortune  and  abandoned  the  King's 
cause.  Not  so  Montrose.  He  redeemed  the  day 
with  noble  fortitude.  A  mind  that  can  support 
with  calmness  the  blows  of  fate,  ever  rises  superior 
to  misfortune. 

As  he  and  his  sorrowing  little  band  slowly  wended 
their  way,  Montrose  argued  thus  :  '  Are  not  the 
Highlanders,'  said  he,  'the  very  bones  and  sinews  of 
the  land  ?  Shall  I  despair  when  I  can  regain  all  I 
have  lost  ?  'Twas  but  a  part  of  my  army  who  were 
there.  I  will  never  despair  of  a  good  cause!  By 
heavens !  no  ! ' 

With  such  thoughts  he  schemed  as  he  went  along, 
and  determined  to  make  another  effort  for  the  King. 
The  Marquis  of  Douglas  and  Lord  Airlie  he  sent 
far  into  Angus  to  recruit  there,  and  Lord  Erskine 
into  Mar  for  the  same  purpose. 

Sir  John  Dalziel,  who  among  all  his  friends  at 
Philiphaugh  had  been  the  most  urgent  that  he 
should  save  himself  by  flight,  and  who  was  brother 
to  the  nobleman  who  at  Naseby  led  Charles  the 
First  from  the  field,  he  sent  to  Lord  Carnegie,  urging 
him  to  delay  no  longer,  but  to  join  him  with  all  the 
Carnegies  he  could  muster  at  his  back. 

•  Montrose's  influence  was  still  powerful  with  the 


1 68  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

Redshanks  ;  but  harvest,  although  it  was  late  in  the 
year,  was  still  ungarnered,  and  their  houses,  they 
urged,  still  needed  repair  ;  yet,  at  the  sound  of  their 
leader's  voice,  they  could  not  refuse  to  follow  him. 
Four  hundred  enlisted  under  his  banner,  and  the 
whole  of  the  Athol  country  promised  him  its  full' 
support  should  the  royal  cause  again  revive  suffi- 
ciently to  enable  the  Marquis  to  march  southwards. 

Montrose  established  himself  at  Braemar,  where  he 
did  all  he  could  to  induce  Macdonald  and  Aboyne, 
whose  desertion  had  been  the  primary  cause  of  his 
disasters,  to  rejoin  him. 

All  Montrose's  entreaties  could  not  induce  the 
Marquis  of  Huntly  to  throw  his  vast  influence  into 
the  scale.  The  Earl  of  Aboyne  indeed  promised 
aid,  and  later  on  joined  Montrose,  but  his  father 
kept  aloof,  unable  to  forget  or  to  forgive  his  ancient 
grudge  against  the  Marquis. 

With  his  mind  harassed  and  perplexed  by  the 
various  checks  he  received,  Montrose  was  plunged 
into  deeper  grief  by  hearing  how  the  Covenanters 
had  massacred  a  number  of  helpless  women  and 
children  of  his  camp  after  Philiphaugh,  and  of  the 
sad  fate  of  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  who  had 
been  captured  in  their  flight. 

In  the  middle  of  the  great  distress  that  Montrose 
felt  at  feeling  that,  do  what  he  could,  no  effort  of 


The  Vozu  of  Montrose.  169 

his  could  save  these  faithful  adherents,  he  received  a 
message  from  Charles,  urging  him  to  rejoin  Digby, 
for  that  that  nobleman  had  raised  a  body  of  horse, 
and  was  nearing  the  border. 

With  conflicting  feelings  Montrose,  at  the  head  of 
about  twelve  hundred  foot  and  three  hundred  horse, 
hurried  southwards  to  save,  if  possible,  by  a  victory 
over  Leslie,  the  lives  of  those  who  still  survived  the 
vengeance  of  his  Covenanters.  O'Ryan  and  Lachlin 
he  knew  were  already  executed  ;  and  Sir  William 
RoUock,  having  incurred  Argyle's  displeasure,  had 
also  met  his  doom. 

Aboyne,  although  accompanied  by  a  very  small 
party  of  Gordons,  none  of  whom  were  steady  ad- 
herents, and  most  of  whom  deserted  from  time  to 
time  under  various  excuses,  descended  into  the 
Lowlands  with  Montrose  ;  and  towards  the  end  of 
October  our  hero  was  close  to  Glasgow,  where  the 
Covenanters  at  that  very  moment  were  engaged  in 
trying  Montrose's  friends. 

I  say  '  trying,'  although  the  word  was  a  mockery, 
where  fanaticism  had  already  decided  that  death, 
and  death  alone,  should  be  the  doom  of  those  hap- 
less men.  In  vain  they  defended  themselves,  as 
in  the  case  of  President  Spottiswoode,  by  bringing 
Scripture  forward  in  their  defence,  saying,  *  Wouldcst 
thou  smite  those  whom  thou  hast  taken  captive  with 


1 70  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

thy  sword  and  thy  bow  in  the  field  ?'  (2  Kings  vi.) 
The  Covenanting  clergy  would  only  listen  to 
texts  that  seemed  to  sanction  the  shedding  of 
an  enemy's  blood,  and  one  after  the  other  the 
loyalists  met  their  fate. 

Sir  Robert  Spottiswoode  maintained  his  innocence 
to  the  last,  and  after — in  an  affecting  letter  of  fare- 
well— commending  his  children  to  Montrose's  care, 
died,  as  a  Christian  soldier  should,  with  firmness 
and  heroism,  in  the  early  part  of  January  1646; 
Montrose  having  again  retreated  into  the  High- 
lands. 

In  spite  of  the  ascendancy  obtained  by  the  Pres- 
byterian clergy  over  the  minds  of  their  fanatic 
followers,  when  Sir  Robert  mounted  the  scafibld 
to  meet  his  doom,  the  crowd  below  it  assembled 
to  witness  the  murder  could  not  disguise  their  dis- 
content ;  for  the  victim  was  well  known  to  be  a 
most  honourable  man,  and  a  very  learned  judge. 

Yet  not  even  could  his  enemies  leave  him.  alone 
in  his  last  hour.  A  Presbyterian  minister  attended 
him  from  the  prison  to  the  block.  When  that 
person  saw  the  effect  that  Sir  Robert's  calm  and 
dignified  bearing  had  produced  on  the  crowd,  he 
turned  to  the  Provost  and  begged  him  to  order 
the  soldiers  to  drown  his  last  words  with  the  noise 
of  their  drums. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  1 7 1 

Perfectly  unruffled,  Sir  Robert  Spottiswoode,  when 
he  saw  that  the  Covenanting  officials  were  deter- 
mined to  prohibit  him  from  speaking,  calmly  drew 
a  paper  out  of  his  pocket  and  threw  it  to  the 
crowd.  It  was  eagerly  picked  up  and  perused, 
and  contained  his  last  speech  and  address. 

In  vain  his  Presbyterian  attendant  would  have 
thrust  his  unwelcome  exhortations  on  the  dying 
man.  Sir  Robert  turned  calmly  away,  and  with  a 
pious  ejaculation,  in  which  he  prayed  that  his  soul 
might  soon  be  with  his  '  merciful  Saviour,'  hastened 
to  meet  his  dread  doom  by  giving  the  signal  to  the 
executioner  to  finish  his  work  speedily. 

Such  a  great  example  Avas  nobly  followed,  and 
most  of  the  Cavaliers  afterwards  executed  met  death 
as  calmly  and  firmly. 

Added  to  the  poignant  grief  with  which  Mon- 
trose's noble  heart  was  torn  when  he  heard  of  the 
fate  of  his  friends,  our  hero  felt  overwhelmed  with 
the  repeated  failure  of  all  his  attempts  to  gain 
over  Huntly  to  his  side. 

The  chief  of  the  Gordons  held  back  from  join- 
ing Montrose  with  an  obstinate  inflexibility  that 
seemed  to  defy  the  most  persuasive  arguments. 

Montrose  determined  to  make  another  last  effort 
to  conciliate  Huntly.  He  first  sent  two  of  his 
friends  to  see  what  effect  the  display  of  the  King's 


1 72  The  Ficiy  Cross  ;  or, 

commission  to  Montrose  would  have  upon  the  ob- 
durate chief. 

The  latter,  with  scornful  impatience,  flung  back 
all  that  they  urged,  when  Montrose's  messengers 
showed  him  Charles's  mandate.  '  I  understand,' 
cried  Huntly,  '  the  King's  business  and  commands 
better  than  do  either  you  or  Montrose !  As  to 
Montrose,  neither  I  nor  my  children  will  have 
anything  to  do  with  him.' 

The  messengers  brought  back  word  how  ill  they ' 
had    succeeded    in    their    m.ission.      The    failure    of 
their  endeavours  did  not,  however,  deter  Montrose. 
As   Huntly  would  not  listen  to  his  agents,  he  de- 
termined to  see  him  himself 

Before  Montrose  set  off  to  Gordon  Castle,  he 
tried,  by  sending  Sir  John  Dalziel  to  Huntly,  to 
avoid  thrusting  himself  into  the  latter's  presence, 
for  our  hero  well  knew  that  Huntly  had  neither 
forgiven  nor  forgotten  his  resentment  against  him. 

Sir  John  Dalziel,  after  urging  weighty  reasons 
to  persuade  Huntly  to  coalesce  with  Montrose, 
entreated  him  to  see  our  hero  ;  but  he  could  not 
induce  him  to  consent  to  a  conference,  and  sent 
him  back  to  Montrose,  who  was  at  that  time  in 
Athol. 

Montrose  was  a  man  of  sudden  impulses.  Deter- 
mined to  lose  no  chance  of  rescuing  Charles,  he 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  173 

put  aside  all  feelings  of  pride  and  resentment, 
and  hastening  through  deep  snows,  across  the  wild 
regions  of  the  Highlands  of  Angus, — for  it  was  in 
the  month  of  December, — he  suddenly  appeared  in 
Strathbogie. 

Yet  even  when  Huntly  heard  that  Montrose  was 
close  to  his  abode,  he  was  resolute  in  his  determina- 
tion of  avoiding  an  interview.  He  fled  to  a  castle 
on  the  Spey,  and  believed  himself  safe  from  the 
presence  of  Montrose. 

The  fact  was,  that  Huntly  not  only  resented  the 
ancient  grievance  he  had  against  Montrose,  but  he 
for  other  reasons  dreaded  any  explanations  with 
him.  There  is  no  one  we  fear  so  much  to  meet 
as  those  whom  we  have  ill-treated.  The  large 
pieces  of  artillery  that  the  year  before  Montrose 
had  buried,  to  be  safe  from  his  enemies,  Huntly's 
sons  had  surreptitiously  dug  up  and  carried  off  to 
their  own  castles,  besides  appropriating  much  am- 
munition taken  by  Montrose  from  his  enemies. 

Such  acts,  together  with  many  other  circum- 
stances, such  as  levying  taxes  unknown  to  Montrose, 
under  pretence  of  continuing  the  war,  had  all  shown 
the  Marquis  that  Huntly  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  defy  his  authority. 

However,  Montrose,  bent  only  on  effecting  his 
own   end,   put  aside   all   his   own  private   feelings. 


1 74  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

and  set  off  one  night  with  very  few  attendants,  and 
surprised  Huntly  by  appearing  suddenly  before  him. 

We  do  not  hear  from  history  how  these  noble 
Cavaliers  met,  but  the  result  showed  that,  in  the 
presence  of  Montrose's  pleading  face  and  eloquence, 
the  great  chief's  ill-humour  vanished.  At  any  rate, 
all  was  sunshine  between  them  for  the  moment. 
Huntly  gave  Montrose  his  hand,  and  they  sat  down 
to  plan  further  operations  against  the  King's  oppo- 
nents. They  concerted  a  system  of  military  action 
together,  and  laid  plans  for  besieging  Inverness. 
Montrose,  they  agreed,  was  to  approach  Inverness 
by  Strathspey,  Huntly  by  the  sea-coast. 

This  apparently  friendly  understanding  between 
the  two  rival  chiefs  highly  delighted  the  Gordons, 
most  of  whom  were  warmly  devoted  to  the  royal 
cause,  and  had  only  held  back  from  fear  of  offend- 
ing Huntly.  We  shall  see  what  that  nobleman's 
promises  were  worth,  and  how  he  kept  his  word 
with  Montrose. 

The  Marquis,  however,  was  too  loyal  a  spirit  to 
suspect  that  their  agreement  would  not  be  carried 
out.  He  set  off  in  high  spirits  to  besiege  Inverness, 
sending  Graham  of  Inchbrakie,  and  John  Drum- 
mond  of  Balloch,  to  take  possession  of  the  Athol 
district,  with  strict  orders  that,  if  any  revolt  took 
place,  it  should  be  promptl}-  suppressed. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  175 

The  Highlanders  in  those  parts  were  all  thoroughly- 
devoted  to  the  King,  and  were  therefore  quite  ready- 
to  show  their  readiness  to  obey  his  lieutenants. 

Macdonald,  whom  none  of  our  hero's  efforts  had 
succeeded  in  drawing  back  to  the  royal  cause, 
was  waging  a  war  of  fire  and  sword  against  the 
Campbells  in  their  own  country.  Driven  by  fear 
of  Colkeitoch  from  the  west,  many  of  the  latter  clan 
fled  into  Athol.  They  were  wild,  desperate  men, 
who,  driven  from  their  own  homes,  had  recourse  to 
violence  for  the  means  of  subsistence.  They  joined 
the  Stewarts,  Menzieses,  and  others  who  were  of 
Argyle's  party,  and  formed  a  formidable  band  of 
fifteen  hundred  men. 

Their  first  hostile  act  was  directed  against  the 
Macgregors  and  Macnabs,  who  had  sided  with 
Montrose  ;  and  they  then  set  off  to  invade  Athol. 
At  the  head  of  only  seven  hundred  men,  Graham 
of  Inchbrakie  met  them  close  to  Callander,  and 
after  defeating  them  in  battle,  forced  their  anta- 
gonists to  retreat  to  Stirling,  although  a  great  many 
were  slain  in  their  flight. 

Montrose  was  not  so  victorious.  He  was  doomed 
to  bitter  disappointment.  Infuriated  at  hearing  of 
the  death  not  only  of  Sir  Robert  Spottiswoode,  but 
how  with  unremitting  vengeance  Argyle  and  his 
friends  were  murdering  his  friends  one  after  another, 


176  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

few  escaping — except  Lord  Ogilvie,  who  got  off  by 
exchanging  clothes  with  his  sister — Montrose,  after 
making  a  vain  attempt  to  engage  Leslie  in  battle, 
marched  to  Inverness. 

When  Montrose  and  Huntly  agreed  to  besiege 
that  place,  it  was  ill  provided  with  provisions. 
From  its  natural  position  it  seemed  inaccessible  ; 
but  when  Montrose  arrived  before  its  castle,  he 
found  that  the  Covenanters  had  managed  to  convey 
into  its  garrison  stores  of  every  kind.  Added  to 
his  grief  for  the  loss  of  so  many  of  his  friends  on 
the  scaffold,  Montrose  had  a  difficult  part  to  play 
with  his  own  immediate  followers. 

With  fierce  and  savage  cries  they  entreated  Mon- 
trose to  overawe  their  enemies  by  a  display  of 
cruelty  towards  the  prisoners  still  in  their  hands. 
They  openly  demanded  blood  for  blood,  and  would 
have  persuaded  Montrose,  had  that  been  possible, 
to  treat  his  captives  with  as  much  brutality  as  the 
Covenanters  had  treated  their  friends.  Montrose 
has  frequently  been  called  'cruel,'  but  he  did  not 
exhibit  any  claim  to  the  character  by  the  way  in 
which  he  answered  his  followers. 

*  You  are  right,'  he  said  to  them,  *  that  the  blood 
of  honourable  and  innocent  men  calls  for  vengeance  ; 
let  us  get  it  not  basely,  but  as  becomes  valiant 
soldiers.     These  men,  our  prisoners,  have   nothing 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  ly^j 

to  do  with  the  murders  that  have  been  committed. 
They  gave  themselves  into  our  hands,  believing  that 
they  might  safely  rely  on  our  honour  to  observe  the 
laws  of  war ;  so  let  us  not  imitate  the  bad  example 
set  us  by  the  Covenanters,  by  making  promises  and 
breaking  them,  but  only  contend  with  them  for 
bravery  and  virtue.' 

The  importunities  of  his  friends  were  not  more 
harrowing  to  our  hero's  noble  spirit  than  the  con- 
duct of  Huntly.  Incapable  of  a  base  breach  of 
honour,  he  was  slow  to  realize  that,  far  from  carry- 
ing out  his  word,  Huntly,  having  crossed  the  Spey, 
was  trifling  his  time  away  in  ]\Ioray,  instead  of 
saving  the  royal  cause  by  a  hearty  co-operation 
with  Montrose. 

He  could  not  brook  the  idea  of  being  second  in 
anything  to  Montrose.  Acting  upon  the  supposi- 
tion that  he  was  still  entitled  to  proceed  by  the 
King's  original  commission,  instead  of  deferring  to 
the  instructions  of  Montrose,  he  struck  out  for  him- 
self an  independent  line  of  action,  and,  wasting  all 
his  strength,  neglected  to  guard  that  part  of  the 
country  which  Montrose  had  impressed  on  him  the 
necessity  of  watching. 

In  consequence  of  Huntly's  neglect,  the  Cove- 
nanters managed  to  convey  food,  arms,  and  am- 
munition  into    Inverness,  so   that   when    Montrose 


1 78  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

encamped  before  it  he  found  the  place  prepared  to 
resist  him.  Had  it  not  been  for  Lord  Huntly's 
want  of  (i^ood  faith,  it  had  probably  surrendered 
immediately. 

He  lay  before  Inverness  for  weeks,  till  at  last, 
hearing  that  General  Middleton  was  advancing 
upon  him  with  fourteen  hundred  well-disciplined 
men  from  Aberdeen,  he  sent  an  urgent  message  to 
Huntly,  entreating  him  either  to  join  him  directly ; 
or,  if  he  preferred  it,  Montrose  proposed  to  fall  back, 
for  he  doubted  not  he  would  soon  overthrow  Mid- 
dleton's  army  with  their  united  forces. 

Our  hero  made  the  last  proposition  because  his 
scouts  had  brought  him  word  that  the  Gordons' 
country  was  likely  to  be  wasted  and  ravaged  by 
the  fast  approaching  enemy,  and  he  doubted 
Huntly's  willingness  to  leave  it  unprotected. 

'  Tell  Montrose,'  was  Huntly's  scornful  reply,  '  I 
need  no  assistance  from  him  to  drive  the  enemy 
from  my  border.  I  will  attend  to  my  own  matters 
myself.' 

Thus  abandoned,  in  reality  if  not  in  words,  by 
the  fickle  Huntly,  no  other  course  remained  to 
Montrose  than  to  retire  before  his  enemy.  There- 
fore, by  taking  a  circuitous  route,  he  and  his  army 
regained  Strathspey  in  safety. 

Huntly's  defection,  sad  as  it  was  and  fatal  to  the 


The  Vow  of  Hlontrose.  1 79 

royal  cause,  was  not  so  base  and  treacherous  as  the 
conduct  of  Lord  Lewis  Gordon.  Under  pretence  of 
being  anxious  to  befriend  their  leader,  he  beguiled 
the  officers  and  men  left  to  guard  the  principal  fords 
of  the  River  Spey,  and  drew  oft  all  Montrose's  scouts 
to  enable  Middleton's  army  to  cross  safely  into 
Moray. 

The  bait  took  ;  and  it  was  only  when  Lord  Lewis 
had  secret  intelligence  conveyed  to  him,  that  he  dis- 
missed the  officers  from  so  ill-timed  a  feast.  As 
they  were  leaving  his  castle  he  jeered  at  them,  and 
told  them  they  had  better  hasten  to  Montrose,  '  who 
would  have  a  sharper  bout  of  it  than  he  had  had  at 
Selkirk!' 

Fortunately  Montrose  was  not  entrapped,  as  the 
crafty  Gordon  had  hoped  he  might  be  (for,  ever 
changing  sides,  trusted  by  neither,  that  fickle  and 
unprincipled  young  nobleman  had  now  gone  over 
to  Argyle's  party)  ;  and  by  hurried  marches  our 
hero  escaped  into  Strathspey.  But  Lord  Huntly's 
defection  carried  weight  with  it,  in  spite  of  the 
indignation  it  inspired  in  the  minds  of  even  his 
own  clan.  Montrose  realized  the  truth  of  the  pro- 
verb, that  it  is  difficult  to  prop  up  a  failing  cause  ; 
for  such,  in  spite  of  the  honesty,  valour,  and  devo- 
tion of  many  of  its  adherents,  the  cause  of  royalty 
in  Scotland  really  was. 


1 80  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

Huntly,  anxious  to  show  that  he  was  acting  inde- 
pendently of  Montrose,  attacked  and  took  Aberdeen; 
but  the  easy  conquest  of  a  place  more  loyal  than 
disloyal  to  Charles,  did  the  royal  cause  no  good,  for 
Huntly  adopted  no  measures  to  follow  up  his  success. 

The  Earl  of  Seaforth  had  been  lately  brought 
over  to  the  royal  side.  When  he  saw  how  Huntly 
was  playing  Montrose  false,  the  crafty  Earl  began 
to  think  that  perhaps  he  had  better  make  peace 
with  Argyle ;  which,  in  an  underhand  way,  he 
accordingly  did. 

The  treachery  and  desertion  of  his  friends  sorely 
tried  our  hero's  generous  spirit.  A  deeper  trial  was, 
however,  at  hand  for  Montrose.  At  the  time  that 
he  lay  before  Inverness,  Charles,  infatuated  to  the 
last,  was  about  to  take  the  step  that  for  ever  sealed 
his  doom. 

Across  the  border,  along  the  hills  and  dales  of  that 
heather-clad  land,  a  messenger  was  speeding  with  a 
letter  from  Charles  to  Montrose  to  tell  him  of  his 
plans. 

But  before  telling  you  how  Montrose  received  the 
news,  I  must  digress  to  describe  the  poor  King's 
position  in  England  during  all  the  time  our  hero  was 
fighting  for  him  in  Scotland. 

The  Scottish  army  had  marched  into  England, 
bent  on  carrying  into  execution  a  coaUtion  with  the 


The  Vow  of  Montrose. 


ISI 


English  republicans  ;  not  so  much  because  their 
leaders  approved  of  their  contest  with  Charles,  as 
because  they  desired  to  spread  the  doctrines  of  the 
Covenant  over  the  two  kingdoms. 

Aided  by  such  powerful  allies,  the  battle  of 
Marston  Moor  was  fought  and  won  ;  and  in  all  pro- 
bability, but  for  the  victories  gained  by  Montrose, 
the  unhappy  monarch  would  have  given  up  the 
game,  as  one  played  out  and  lost. 

The  gleam  of  hope  inspired  by  the  Marquis's 
success  in  Scotland  deferred  the  evil  hour.  Charles 
temporized,  treated,  and  then  broke  oft  negotiations 
with  the  Parliament,  whose  army  at  that  time  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  the  unscrupulous  but  able 
Cromwell. 

After  the  battle  of  Naseby,  the  King  took  refuge 
at  Oxford.  The  more  moderate  leaders,  such  as 
Essex  and  others  of  the  republican  party  in  England, 
who  had  taken  up  arms  against  their  King  out  of 
sincere  affection  to  their  country,  and  were  unpre- 
pared to  proceed  to  greater  lengths,  had  been 
displaced  by  Oliver  Cromwell.  Sir  Thomas  Fairfax 
was  the  General,  and  Cromwell  the  Lieutenant- 
general,  of  the  army  that  defeated  Charles  at 
Naseby. 

In  vain  a  Westminster  conference  for  three  years 
had   been    discussing    the   forms   of    worship    that 


1 82  The  Fieiy  Cross;  or, 

were  to  replace  the  time-honoured  liturgy  of  the 
Reformed  Catholic  Church  of  England.  The  divines 
assembled  there  could  not  agree  with  the  Presby- 
terians owing  to  the  Independents.  That  party,  who 
principally  composed  the  army  that  followed  Crom- 
well, were  for  entirely  abolishing  the  clerical  cha- 
racter. As  they  were  a  formidable  sect,  and  made  a 
powerful  stand  against  any  who  did  not  agree  with 
their  peculiar  views, — which  were,  that  any  congre- 
gation of  Christians  meeting  together  formed  a 
Church  in  themselves,  independent  of  any  religious 
government, — the  Scottish  Covenanters  were  begin- 
ning to  see  that  their  principal  aim  in  rebelling  against 
Charles  had  failed. 

At  heart  the  Scotch  have  always  been  loyal  ;  and 
although,  blinded  by  fanaticism,  they  still  detested 
the  King's  Episcopal  views,  they  were  disgusted  with 
their  failure,  and  would  have  withdrawn  from  Eng- 
land, had  they  not  still  lingered  in  hope  of  securing 
payment  for  their  services  and  troops. 

Informed  by  his  spies  of  the  state  of  matters 
between  the  Scots  and  the  English,  Charles,  almost 
ruined  in  purse,  with  scarcely  any  army  left,  formed 
the  fatal  resolution  of  throwing  himself  on  the  mercy 
of  the  Scotch. 

He  fancied  that,  at  the  sight  of  their  monarch,  the 
ancient  loyalty  of  the  race  would  revive  ;  and,  on  the 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  183 

27th  of  April  1646,  disguised  as  a  postillion,  he  left 
Oxford,  and  after  eleven  days'  travelling  presented 
himself  before  the  Scottish  army,  then  at  Newark. 

So  imminent  was  the  danger  of  his  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  Parliamentary  army,  that  the  monarch 
of  all  England,  accompanied  by  only  two  faithful 
friends,  rode  behind  the  baggage  of  one  of  them,  the 
better  to  escape  detection. 

The  English  Parliament  had  not  calculated  on  this 
sudden  movement,  and  proclaimed  it  to  be  instant 
death  to  any  one  who  should  harbour  or  conceal 
the  unhappy  King.  The  Scots,  unprepared  for  his 
arrival,  for  a  while  treated  him  respectfully,  although 
virtually  he  was  their  prisoner.  Before  taking  so 
momentous  a  step,  he  had  written  to  our  hero  a 
letter,  dated  the  i8th  of  April  1646,  in  which  he 
declared  his  motives,  and  confidence  in  the  Scots, 
urging  Montrose  to  lose  no  time  in  joining  him. 

Although  externally  the  King  received  all  due 
respect  when  he  reached  the  Covenanters'  camp,  he 
had  to  submit  to  ill-disguised  insolence  from  the 
leaders  of  the  party. 

He  who  had  hoped  'for  freedom  in  conscience 
and  honour,'  was  imperiously  requested  by  the 
president  of  the  committee,  Earl  Lothian,  'to 
sign  the  Covenant,'  and  *  bid  James  Graham  lay 
down  his  arms.'     The  King  in  a  dignified  manner 


184  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

told  Lothian,  '  He  who  made  you  an  Earl  made 
James  Graham  a  Marquis.' 

It  was  indeed  a  hard  lot  to  bear  the  taunts  levelled 
at  him  by  the  fanatics  of  the  Covenant,  but  Charles 
Stuart  could  bear  the  burden  of  his  fate  with 
grandeur.  The  anecdote  of  one  of  the  Presbyterians, 
when  preaching  before  him,  giving  out  the  fifty- 
second  Psalm,  is  too  well  known  to  bear  repetition  ; 
but  when  the  King  was  anxious  to  give  the  watch- 
word himself  to  the  Scottish  sentinels,  Leslie  bluntly 
told  him  *  to  spare  himself  the  trouble,  as  he  was  the 
elder  soldier  of  the  two.' 

Persecution,  however,  effected  the  ends  of  the 
King's  enemies.  Although  in  giving  himself  up  he 
had  bargained  for  the  safety  of  all  who  had  fought 
for  him  during  those  fearful  civil  wars,  he  was  not 
permitted  to  see  his  faithful  Montrose  again.  The 
last  concession  was  wrung  from  him ;  he  consented 
to  give  up  those  fortresses  still  holding  out  for  him, 
and  sent  word  to  the  old  Lord  Worcester  to  sur- 
render Raglan  Castle  to  the  Puritans. 

The  Lord  of  Raglan  was  sixty-nine  years  old,  but 
he  had  a  high  and  lofty  spirit.  For  weeks  the 
Welsh  fortress  held  out  ;  till  at  last,  provisions  fail- 
ing. Lord  Worcester  was  compelled  to  yield  to  his 
enemies,  and  surrender.  The  last  place  that  held 
out  for  Charles  the  First  was  Raglan    Castle.     Its 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  185 

owner  left  it  with  the  mien  of  a  victor,  although 
he  was  never  again  to  gaze  on  its  princely  halls. 
His  adversary  Fairfax  could  not  but  admire  his 
heroism. 

The  Marquis  of  Worcester  had  lost  all  he  pos- 
sessed for  Charles  ;  but  the  brave  old  man  bore  his 
misfortunes  with  dignity  and  fortitude, — true  to  his 
principle,  faithful  to  his  King,  and  believing  that 
*  noblesse  oblige.' 

But  the  fall  of  Raglan  was  not  till  the  middle  of 
August  1646,  and  therefore  much  later  than  the 
period  at  which  his  Scottish  champion — a  cham- 
pion as  true  as  the  Marquis  of  Worcester — received 
the  news  of  Charles's  ill-advised  surrender  to  the 
Covenanters. 

One  sacrifice  more  did  the  Scots  still  require  of 
Charles.  They  had  taken  him  to  Newcastle,  from 
which  place  he  was  forced  to  write  a  letter  to 
Montrose,  dated  the  i6th  of  May  1646,  in  which  he 
commanded  him  to  disband  his  army  and  retire  to 
France, 

When  Montrose  received  the  King's  letter,  he 
was  busily  engaged  in  making  preparations  to  carry 
on  the  war.  He  was  doing  all  that  lay  in  his  power, 
in  spite  of  Huntly's  previous  conduct,  to  induce  the 
Gordons  to  join  him.  With  Charles's  letter  in  his 
hand,  charging  him  so  plainly  to  give  up  the  contest 


1 86  The  Fiery  Ci^oss  ;  or, 

and  abandon  all  hope  of  saving  his  King,  Montrose, 
downcast,  astonished,  and  dismayed,  was  sure  that 
such  a  command  had  been  extorted  from,  and  not 
freely  given  by,  the  King.  He  felt  overwhelmed. 
How  would  his  soldiers  fare  if  he  obeyed .-'  Fear 
for  their  fate,  anxiety  for  Charles,  and,  above  all, 
that  unflinching  devotion  to  duty,  which  from  first 
to  last  had  marked  his  career,  all  in  turn  disturbed 
his  mind  ;  but  at  last  anxiety  and  fear  for  the  hap- 
less prince,  no  longer  a  free  agent,  predominated  ; 
and,  actuated  by  a  wish  to  consult  all  who  had  sup- 
ported the  royal  cause  in  Scotland,  he  resolved  to 
call  a  great  meeting  of  the  Scottish  Cavaliers  that 
they  might  consult  together. 

Strange  to  say,  it  was  Sir  John  Hurry,  a  former 
enemy,  who,  together  with  Sir  John  Innes,  were 
despatched  at  this  critical  moment  by  the  Marquis 
to  Huntly. 

Our  hero,  laying  aside  in  the  danger  of  their 
common  cause  all  personal  feelings,  desired  his 
friends,  both  of  whom  were  on  very  good  terms 
with  Huntly,  to  tell  the  chief  of  the  Gordons  that 
he  would  '  go  to  his  castle  ' — '  if  he  thought  fit.' 

'The  King,'  replied  Huntly,  'had  sent  him  letters 
to  the  same  effect.  He  intended  to  obey  the  King's 
orders.  The  King's  commands  were  decided  ;  and 
there  was  nothing  to  consult  about' 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  187 

In  vain  Sir  John  Hurry  and  his  companion  urged 
that  Montrose  was  as  anxious  as  Huntly  to  obey 
his  sovereign's  commands  implicitly,  but  that  he  was 
in  doubt  '  as  to  whether  or  not  they  had  not  been 
extorted  from  him  by  force,'  and  that  'it  behoved 
them  all  to  provide  for  their  adherents.'  The 
peevish  Huntly,  whose  jealousy  of  Montrose,  and 
lukewarm  conduct,  had  been  the  main  cause  that 
the  whole  of  the  north  part  of  Scotland  had  not 
unanimously  declared  for  the  King,  would  give  no 
other  answer.  '  He  had  decided  for  himself,'  he  said, 
and  *  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  anybody  else.' 

To  the  King's  letter  Montrose  replied  that  he  was, 
as  ever,  ready  to  lay  down  his  very  life  for  Charles. 
He  entreated  him  to  write  to  him  fully,  and  to 
tell  him  particularly  whether  or  not  he  felt  safe  with 
the  Covenanters.  Well  might  Montrose,  who  knew 
them  so  well,  mistrust  his  monarch's  guardians. 
Did  the  King,  Montrose  inquired,  need  his  services  .•* 
Did  the  King  really  bid  him  disband  an  army  which 
had  well-nigh  reconquered  Scotland  for  him  .''  If 
so,  how  could  he  save  the  lives  and  properties  of 
his  followers  t 

To  this  urgent  letter  our  hero  received  no  reply, 
other  than  an  official  order  from  the  English  Parlia- 
ment,, that  he  was  required  to  lay  down  his  arms 
and  disband  his  army. 


1 88  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

Montrose  had  received  his  commission  from 
Charles,  and  he  would  therefore  take  no  orders 
except  from  his  royal  master.  He  wrote  again  very 
urgently  ;  and  then  the  King  wrote  a  letter,  dated 
the  fifteenth  of  June  1646,  in  which  he  enjoined 
Montrose  to  disband  his  troops,  and  retire  abroad. 

After  receiving  the  King's  positive  commands, 
Montrose  no  longer  refused.  Huntly  and  Aboyne 
even  took  upon  themselves  to  threaten  Montrose,  if 
he  hesitated  any  longer  ;  so,  yielding  obedience  to 
his  sovereign,  though  with  a  heavy  heart,  the  gallant 
leader  of  so  many  victories  prepared  to  capitulate. 

Charles  was  intensely  anxious  to  save  Montrose, 
by  getting  him  safely  out  of  the  countiy.  He  knew 
that  the  Covenanters,  who  detested  Montrose,  would 
take  advantage  of  the  slightest  delay  to  retaliate 
on  one  whose,  victories  over  them  had  been  so  ex- 
emplary, and  therefore  urged  the  Marquis  to  lose  no 
time  in  conferring  with  General  Middleton,  who  was 
charged  to  see  the  terms  of  capitulation  carried  out 
About  the  middle  of  July,  Montrose  and  Middleton 
met  by  agreement  in  Angus.  Close  to  a  river,  the 
two  opponents,  enemies  no  longer — for  Montrose 
could  appreciate  Middleton's  honest  and  soldierly 
character — met,  and  for  two  hours  discussed  the 
terms  of  capitulation.  The  Earl  of  Crawford,  Sir 
John  Hurry,  and  Montrose  were  exempted  from  the 


The  Vo-dj  of  Montrose.  189 

general  pardon,  which  was  to  be  extended  to  all 
those  who  had  taken  up  arms  under  Montrose  ;  but 
they  were  to  be  permitted  to  retire  abroad,  provided 
they  sailed  before  the  first  of  September.  After  his 
conference  with  Middleton,  Montrose,  who  undertook 
to  see  that  his  followers  carried  out  the  terms  of  his 
convention,  and  retired  to  their  homes,  determined 
to  be  as  loyal  to  his  word  as  he  had  been  to  his 
King,  and  to  immediately  disband  his  Redshanks. 

His  meeting  with  Middleton  took  place  on  the 
22d  of  July  1646,  Eight  days  later  he  took  leave 
of  his  followers  at  Rattray,  in  Angus. 

Montrose  was  then  just  thirty-four  years  of  age,  in 
the  prime  of  life ;  young  enough  to  keenly  feel  the 
disappointments  of  his  position,  yet  old  enough  to 
bear  them  with  manly  fortitude.  He  tried  to  comfort 
his  men,  by  telling  them  that  he  trusted  an  honour- 
able peace  was  close  at  hand,  and  that  as  long  as 
the  King  was  saved  by  their  submission,  the  sacri- 
fices made  by  himself  and  his  followers  would  be 
light  and  easily  borne ;  but  at  heart  he  was  any- 
thing but  sanguine. 

With  all  the  enthusiasm  and  devotion  of  their 
race,  the  Highlanders  cast  themselves  at  Montrose's 
feet,  begging  him  to  permit  them  to  accompany  him 
into  exile.  Such  a  request  it  was  impossible  to 
grant. 


I  go  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

*  Farewell !  and  farewell ! '  cried  Montrose,  as  he 
tore  himself  with  deep  emotion  from  the  kneeling 
men ;  and  riding  slowly  away,  he  and  the  few 
chosen  companions  of  his  exile  passed  out  of  sight. 

A  few  words  will  tell  the  remainder  of  this  part  of 
the  sad  story. 

The  Irish  brigade,  commanded  by  Lord  Crawford, 
who  was  proscribed  with  our  hero,  returned  to  Ire- 
land, and  Lord  Airlie  and  others  of  the  Marquis's 
truest  friends  returned  to  their  own  homes. 

Thus  ended  Montrose's  gallant  but  ineffectual 
campaign  for  his  King.  It  had  not,  indeed,  been  all 
in  vain.  That  devoted  little  band,  following  with 
so  much  devotion  the  chivalrous  and  high-minded 
Montrose,  have  left  to  their  descendants  and  their 
country  the  picture  of  a  noble  and  disinterested 
attempt  made  by  gallant  faithful  men  in  defence  of 
a  principle  —  as  they  believed  —  of  right  against 
might. 

Montrose's  dangers  did  not  quite  end  on  that 
farewell  day.  The  Covenanters  in  Edinburgh  and 
Glasgow  thought  that  General  Middleton  had  been 
far  too  lenient  in  his  agreement.  They  longed  for 
some  apparent  breach  of  the  convention  that  they 
might  seize  the  gallant  Marquis,  and  carry  him  to 
the  scaffold  ;  but  his  life  was  to  be  spared  a  while. 
He  was  destined  to  act  another  part  in  the  page  of 


The  Vow  of  Montrose,  191 

history.  He  hurried  home  to  Old  Montrose  to  pre- 
pare for  his  exile.  Strange  to  say,  Sir  John  Hurry, 
his  former  enemy,  but  now  his  firmest  friend,  was 
the  only  companion  permitted  by  Montrose  to  ac- 
company him. 

The  King  acknowledged  Montrose's  services  in  a 
very  grateful  letter,  and  especially  impressed  on  him 
the  necessity  of  strictly  adhering  to  the  date  fixed 
for  his  departure,  although  he  also  bid  him  *  linger  as 
long'  as  he  possibly  could.  Perchance  the  hopeless 
monarch  dreaded  his  faithful  servant's  absence,  yet 
knew  that  were  he  *  to  linger,'  his  fate  might  be 
sealed  by  his  enemy's  implacable  fury. 

In  the  treaty  effected  between  Charles  and  his 
subjects,  one  article  had  especially  stipulated  for  the 
Marquis's  departure.  According  to  that  treaty,  the 
ship  and  all  its  equipments  for  the  voyage  were  to 
be  provided  in  good  time  by  the  Edinburgh  com- 
mittee. 

The  time  for  his  embarkation  drew  on.  Montrose 
had  bidden  his  friends  farewell.  He  had  arrived  at 
a  port  in  Angus,  from  which  he  was  to  depart ;  and, 
attended  by  a  few  friends  and  servants,  was  ready 
to  obey  the  sentence  of  exile  that  had  been  passed 
upon  him. 

It  was  by  no  means,  however,  the  intention  of  the 
Covenanters  to  allow  him  to  escape  so  easily.     No 


192  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

doubt  among  their  number  there  were  many  honour- 
able and  high-minded  men  ;  but  there  were  others 
who  were  eager  to  force  Montrose  to  break  his 
agreement,  trusting  in  that  way  they  might  entrap 
him.  They  hated  the  idea  of  his  escaping  their 
fury  ;  they  thirsted  for  his  blood. 

The  Covenanters  tried  to  induce  several  who  pro- 
fessed friendship  to  the  Marquis,  but  were  enemies 
at  heart,  to  flatter  the  great  hero  of  the  Scottish 
civil  wars. 

*  'Twere  a  pity,'  they  urged,  *  so  gallant  a  soldier 
should  be  sent  into  exile.  If,  by  chance,  the  King 
could  not  come  to  terms  with  the  English,  who  would 
he  want  but  Montrose  to  fight  his  battles } ' 

The  Marquis  knew  too  well  the  value  of  such 
arguments.  So,  after  taking  a  sad  and  long  farewell 
of  his  home  at  Old  Montrose,  and  of  such  friends  as 
could  not  accompany  him,  he  repaired  in  August  to 
the  given  rendezvous.  When  he  got  there,  however, 
no  ship  was  to  be  seen.  The  day  was  rapidly  draw- 
ing nigh,  on  which,  according  to  the  treaty,  he  was 
to  quit  his  native  land  ;  but  the  promised  vessel  that 
was  to  bear  him  safely  from  its  shores  had  not 
arrived  !     Was  there  not  treachery  somewhere  ? 

At  last,  on  the  31st  of  August,  a  ship  arrived  at 
the  haven  of  Montrose. 

It  was,  as  the  Marquis  soon  discovered,  ordered  to 


The  Vow  of  Mo7itrose.  193 

convey  him  to  a  place  appointed  by  the  commis- 
sioners, the  name  of  which  the  captain  insolently 
boasted  was  only  known  to  himself.  He  was  a 
Covenanter  of  a  most  violent  kind ;  and  when  the 
Marquis  told  him  that  he  was  ready  to  embark,  he 
merely  replied  that  the  vessel  would  not  be  fit  for 
sea  for  some  days,  and  that  he  was  afraid  to  put  off, 
till  the  ship,  which  was  a  very  old  and  cranky  one, 
had  been  properly  refitted  and  victualled  for  its 
voyage. 

The  crew  on  board  this  wretched  bark  were  as 
ill-conditioned  and  surly  as  their  captain.  What 
was  the  Marquis  to  do .-'  To  hesitate  was,  as  he 
well  knew,  to  be  lost.  The  mouth  of  the  Esk  was 
watched  by  English  men-of-war,  and  our  hero  re- 
cognised the  difficulties  of  his  position.  Those 
friends  who  had  accompanied  him  to  the  place  of 
embarkation  were  all  anxious  to  persuade  him  that 
his  only  chance  of  safety  lay  in  an  immediate  return 
into  the  Highlands. 

The  captain  of  the  ship  provided  by  the  Cove- 
nanters, they  argued,  was  evidently  bent  on  pre- 
venting his  departure,  by  throwing  every  obstacle  in 
his  way. 

The  ocean  swarmed  with  men-of-war  eager  to 
seize  him  if  he  set  sail  too  late,  and  the  chances  of 
escape   among   the   hills   of  Badenoch   were   more 


194  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  oVy 

numerous  than  his  chances  of  getting  off  by  sea. 
Montrose  reflected  that  if  he  gave  the  smallest 
handle  to  his  enemies,  the  King's  Hfe  might  be 
endangered  ;  so,  with  all  the  generosity  of  his  nature, 
he  resolved,  come  what  might,  to  keep  his  word,  and 
depart  as  soon  as  he  could. 

Fortunately  a  Norwegian  bark  was  lying  in  the 
port  of  Stonehaven.  A  bargain  was  quickly  made, 
and  Montrose  immediately  sent  off  Sir  John  Hurry, 
Mr.  Drummond,  his  brother  Henry,  his  chaplain, 
and  a  few  other  friends  and  servants,  and  ordered 
them  all  to  set  sail  for  Norway  ;  which  they  ac- 
cordingly did,  on  the  third  of  September  1646. 

Having  provided  for  his  friends,  he  then  effected 
his  own  escape  in  disguise. 

The  very  evening  that  they  set  sail,  passing  for  a 
servant  in  attendance  on  his  faithful  chaplain,  Mr. 
Wood,  Montrose  hailed  a  small  fishing  smack,  and 
bid  the  boatman  carry  him  and  his  companion  out 
to  sea.  The  wind  was  fair,  and  the  little  bark, 
carrying  in  so  humble  a  guise  the  great  Scottish 
Cavalier,  drifted  out  with  the  tide  of  the  harbour, 
none  suspecting  how  precious  a  freight  it  bore  away. 

As  he  watched  the  receding  shores  of  that  Scot- 
land for  whose  sake  he  had  dared  and  won,  and 
dared  and  lost  so  much,  Montrose  little  thought 
how  and  when  he  was  to  see  it  again !     He  and  his 


The  Votv  of  Montrose.  195 

chaplain  reached  a  vessel  bound  for  Norway  in 
safety,  and  dismissing  the  little  wherry  which  had 
saved  their  lives,  were  soon  afterwards  safely  on 
their  way  to  Norway. 

Thus  ended  the  first  part  of  our  hero's  story,  and 
the  civil  war  in  Scotland  in  favour  of  King  Charles 
the  First. 

Well  might  his  disbanded  soldiers,  who,  in  spite 
of  promises,  were  still  persecuted  for  the  love  they 
had  borne  him, 

*  Be  shaken 
With  the  weight  of  such  a  blow. 

He  was  gone — their  prince,  their  idol, 
Whom  they  loved  and  worshipped  so  J " 

To  return — how  ? 


CHAPTER    VI. 

*  Great,  good,  and  just,  could  I  but  rate 
My  grief  and  thy  too  rigid  fate, 
I'd  weep  the  world  in  such  a  strain 
As  it  should  deluge  once  again.' 

— Marquis  of  Montrose. 


IRTUALLY  a  prisoner,  how  fared  the  un-' 
happy  King  after  the  departure  of  Mon- 
trose ? 

The  Independents  were  his  greatest  enemies,  for 
they  were  republicans  equally  in  politics  and  in 
religion.  They  longed  to  overthrow  the  King,  but 
felt  compelled  to  keep  up  an  outward  appearance  of 
decency  in  their  behaviour  towards  him. 

Charles  expressed  himself  willing  to  come  to 
terms  with  his  subjects ;  but  the  conditions  they 
proposed  for  his  acceptance  were  hard  indeed. 

They  only  accorded  him  ten  short  days  to  con- 
sider whether  he  could  sign  the  Covenant, — a  step  to 
which,  as  an  honourable  man  remembering  that  he 

Tq6 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  197 

had  taken  the  coronation  oath,  the  King  was  most 
averse.  Charles  was,  nevertheless,  strongly  urged 
by  the  more  moderate  party  in  Scotland  to  sign  that 
document ;  for  they  trusted  that,  if  he  were  persuaded 
to  do  so,  he  might  even  at  that  eleventh  hour  be 
saved.  Great  was  the  triumph  of  the  Independents 
when  it  was  openly  announced  that  the  King  re- 
fused their  terms,  while  the  more  moderate  party 
dreaded,  with  reason,  the  prospect  before  them  ;  for 
was  it  not  an  axe  and  a  scaffold  for  the  unhappy 
King,  so  conscientiously  determined  not  to  abandon 
his  religious  opinions } 

Montrose,  sailing  away  from  Scotland,  still  schem- 
ing and  dreaming  how  best  he  might  serve  Charles, 
who  had  entrusted  him,  it  was  alleged,  with  secret 
instructions  to  serve  him  abroad,  little  knew  that  the 
Scots  were  preparing  to  meet  their  financial  difficul- 
ties by  an  act  of  gross  and  shameful  treachery. 

The  Independents  longed  to  obtain  possession  of 
Charles's  person ;  while  the  Scots,  unable  to  keep 
him,  and  disgusted  by  his  refusal  to  sanction  the 
Presbyterian  forms  of  religion  in  England  as  well  as 
Scotland,  had  no  longer  any  object  in  guarding  one 
who  in  so  evil  an  hour  had  thrown  himself  on  their 
protection.  It  is  difficult  to  sufficiently  condemn 
either  those  who  sold  or  those  who  bought  their 
monarch.     The  Scots,  being  anxious  to  be  paid  for 


1 98  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

their  services  in  England,  amounting  to  nearly  two 
millions, — three  years'  arrears, — agreed  to  give  up  the 
King  provided  that  sum  were  paid  down  to  them. 
This  bargain  was  not  concluded  without  a  vehement 
protest  by  a  number  of  Scottish  noblemen,  who, 
though  attached  to  the  Covenant,  abhorred  the 
crime  of  selling  their  lawful  sovereign. 

The  Duke  of  Hamilton,  followed  by  the  Earl  of 
Lanark,  nobly  voted  against  the  crime,  after  cou- 
rageously defending  the  condemned  monarch. 

When  asked  how  he  voted,  the  Earl  cried  :  '  No  ! 
As  God  shall  have  mercy  on  my  soul  at  the  great 
day,  rather  than  consent  to  this  vote  I  would  have 
my  head  struck  off  at  the  Market  Cross  of  Edin- 
burgh.' When  the  fatal  deed  was  done,  and  the 
assembly  had  sealed  Charles's  fate,  he  exclaimed, 
'  This  is  the  blackest  Saturday  Scotland  has  ever 
seen ! ' 

Forewarned  of  the  fact  by  a  private  letter  handed 
to  him  while  playing  at  chess  with  one  of  his  atten- 
dants, Charles  bore  his  great  misfortunes  with  calm- 
ness and  self-possession. 

The  Scots  were  paid  the  amount  of  their  dis- 
graceful bargain !  and  Charles,  on  the  20th  of 
February  1647,  was  handed  over  to  the  English 
commissioners,  and  taken  by  them  to  Holmby  in 
Northamptonshire. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  1 99 

It  was  not  long  before  Cromwell  sent  an  armed 
band  to  seize  the  King's  person. 

*  Your  warrant,'  said  Charles  to  the  officer  who 
removed  him,  when,  in  reply  to  the  King's  inquiry 
as  to  who  had  ordered  his  change  of  residence,  he 
pointed  through  the  latticed  window  of  Holmby 
House  to  his  armed  men,  *is  indeed  written  in 
characters  fair  and  legible  ; '  and  he  then  accom- 
panied them  in  a  dignified  manner  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Puritan  army  on  Triplow  Heath 
in  Cambridgeshire.  In  the  meantime,  Montrose 
landed  at  Bergen  in  Norway,  and  after  hastening 
into  Denmark,  with  the  intention  of  interesting  the 
reigning  King  Christian  in  his  royal  master's 
troubles,  crossed  the  Baltic,  and  while  at  Ham- 
burg, heard  of  the  shameful  treaty  between  the 
Scots  and  English. 

He  knew  that  Henrietta  Maria,  who  had  taken 
refuge  in  Paris,  was  almost  entirely  governed  by 
her  favourite.  Lord  Jermyn,  who  by  no  means 
welcomed  the  idea  of  Montrose's  presence  at  the 
French  Court.  Before  leaving  Scotland,  the  Mar- 
quis had  endeavoured  to  serve  Charles  by  organ- 
izing a  Northern  party,  who  mutually  promised 
to  protect  Charles  by  force  of  arms.  This  '  engage- 
ment,' as  it  was  called,  had  been  made  known  to 
Charles,  and  also  to  the  Queen. 


200  The  Fiejy  Cross  ;  or. 

After  the  downfall  of  all  his  schemes,  Montrose 
must  have  possessed  great  courage  to  dream  of 
another  enterprise  in  favour  of  Charles  ;  yet  even 
before  he  quitted  Scotland,  he  appears  to  have 
planned  a  new  expedition,  the  details  of  which  he 
sent  to  Queen  Henrietta  by  his  friend  Lord  Craw- 
ford. 

That  nobleman  reached  Paris  before  our  hero, 
and  his  proposition,  which  was  to  raise  thirty 
thousand  men  and  rescue  the  King,  strange  to  say, 
met  with  but  little  encouragement  from  Henrietta, 
who  was  under  Jermyn's  influence,  and  whose 
jealousy  of  Montrose  made  him  anxious  to  oppose 
any  scheme  that  emanated  from  him. 

Whatever  the  Queen,  influenced  by  selfish  coun- 
sels, may  have  thought,  Charles  seems  for  some 
time  to  have  clung  to  the  hope  of  escape. 

Allaster  MacCoU  did  not  disband  his  troops  at 
the  same  time  as  Montrose.  The  men  he  had  taken 
away  into  Argyllshire  were  still  enlisted  in  the 
royal  favour,  and  supported  Huntly,  who,  after 
having  refused  to  assist  Montrose  when  help  might 
materially  have  aided  the  cause,  still  appeared  in 
arms  for  the  Cavaliers'  cause  as  late  as  December 
1646,  the  end  of  the  year  in  which  Montrose  left 
Scotland. 

Huntly,  however,  was  -forced  to  retire  before  the 


Xhe  Vow  of  MoJitrose.  201 

experienced  troops  whom  the  Scotch  sent  against 
him  under  General  Lesh'e.  Finding  himself  likely 
to  be  defeated,  he  fled  to  the  mountains  of  Bade- 
noch,  whose  peasantry  were  devoted  to  him.  General 
Leslie  was  well  aware  how  unequal  would  be  a 
combat  in  a  land  where  every  cave  and  hill,  if 
necessary,  could  be  turned  into  a  fortress  to  defend 
the  chief  of  the  Gordons.  He  therefore,  being  a 
very  able  general,  determined  upon  caution.  He 
appeared  to  abandon  the  pursuit  of  Huntly,  and 
retired  to  Strathbogie,  which  he  took,  as  well  as 
the  castles  of  Lesmore,  the  Bog  of  Gicht,  and  a 
place  called  Lochtanner  in  Aboyne. 

The  capture  of  Ruthven  in  Badenoch  and  Inver- 
lochy  followed  ;  both  fortresses  were  great  losses 
to  the  Highland  Cavaliers.  The  former  castle  must 
have  been  very  strong ;  for  often,  in  more  ancient 
times,  had  it  been  gallantly  defended  by  the  Gordons. 
About  sixty  years  before  it  fell  into  Leslie's  hands, 
a  mighty  chief,  Lauchlan  Mackintosh,  head  of  the 
Clanchattan  clan,  had  tried  in  vain  to  take  it, 
and  fell  wounded  in  the  attempt ;  so  that  when 
Leslie  had  garrisoned  it,  and  left  Middleton  in 
charge  of  the  province,  he  thought  he  might  safely 
pursue  MacCoU  into  Argyllshire. 

In  spite  of  the  almost  impregnable  position  of  the 
country,  MacColl,  brave  and  courageous,  but  rash, 


202  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

foolishly  allowed  his  enemies  to  get  through  a  pass 
into  Kintyre,  which  placed  his  foe,  well  supported 
with  cavalry,  in  as  good  a  position  as  himself. 

After  a  long  battle,  MacColl,  accompanied  by 
almost  all  his  men,  retreated  to  the  sea-shore,  where 
they  soon  took  to  their  boats  and  retired  safely 
into  the  Western  Islands. 

The  unhappy  remnant  left  by  MacColl  retreated 
to  a  fort  called  Dunavertie.  It  was  a  very  ancient 
castle,  standing,  as  its  name  signifies,  on  a  point  of 
land.  There  was  no  water  to  supply  the  fort,  so 
that  as  soon  as  the  small  quantity  taken  in  by  the 
garrison  was  quite  exhausted,  they  were  compelled 
to  submit  unconditionally  to  the  enemy. 

Unhappily  for  the  unfortunate  garrison,  Leslie 
was  accompanied  by  a  Presbyterian  clergyman 
named  Neaves,  who,  although  talented  and  reputed 
pious,  was  a  red-hot  fanatic. 

When  he  saw  Leslie  hesitating  to  give  the  order 
for  their  destruction,  he  stepped  forward  and  re- 
minded him  that  Saul  had  been  cursed  for  sparing 
the  Amalekites. 

Argyle  appears  to  have  been  present  at  the 
horrible  scene  of  carnage  that  ensued,  for  he  and 
Leslie  are  described  by  a  historian  as  positively 
'wading  in  blood  up  to  their  ankles.'  As  one  by 
one  the  garrison  marched  out  of  the  fort,  they  were 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  203 

all,  with  one  exception,  shot  down — Leslie  turning, 
when  all  was  over,  to  Neaves,  and  asking  him : 
*  Have  you  not  for  once  got  your  fill  of  blood  ? ' 

Thence  the  Covenanters  hastened  over  to  Islay, 
where  he  found  MacCoU's  father,  Colkeitoch,  and 
about  two  hundred  men  in  a  fort  on  a  hill  like 
Dunavertie,  called  Dunnivey.  Again  the  lack  of 
water  favoured  the  besiegers,  who,  however,  spared 
the  lives  of  the  garrison ;  all  except  Colkeitoch,  who 
was  hanged. 

Leslie  was  equally  successful  in  Jura  and  Mull, 
which  latter  place  was  garrisoned  by  the  Maclean 
clan. 

That  chief  saved  his  own  men  by  the  sacrifice 
of  fourteen  Irishmen,  and  the  loss  of  several  castles. 

This  expedition  of  Huntly's  ended  by  the  capture 
and  execution  of  three  of  his  family,  and  his  own 
imprisonment  in  the  Tolbooth  of  Edinburgh,  while 
the  Covenanters  celebrated  the  massacre  of  so  many 
'  malignants '  by  a  public  fast.  If,  however,  the 
Covenanters  believed  that  they  had  finally  quelled 
the  Cavaliers,  they  were  mistaken. 

Henrietta  Maria  had  found  a  safe  asylum  for  her- 
self in  France,  although  the  French  monarch  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  her  entreaties  for  aid  to  Charles. 

All  this  time  our  hero,  constant  to  his  purpose, 
was,  hurr\ing  on  to  Paris,  eager  in  order,  if  possible, 


1 


2C4  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

to  negotiate  for  Charles's  rescue.  The  Queen,  who 
did  not  intend  quarrelling  with  Montrose,  wrote  very- 
kindly  to  him,  although  (again  influenced  by  the 
double-dealing  Jermyn)  she  tried  to  prevent  his 
visiting  Paris.  Probably  Henrietta  Maria,  thought- 
less, and  therefore  selfish,  dreaded  an  appeal  in 
behalf  of  Charles  to  the  French  King,  as  likely  to 
injure,  if  unsuccessful,  her  own  safety.  She  and 
Jermyn  therefore  hit  on  a  scheme  to  prevent  the 
arrival  of  a  person  whom  both,  if  really  loyal  to 
Charles,  should  have  warmly  welcomed. 

They  sent  one  of  Charles's  gentlemen  named 
Ashburnham  to  meet  him  ;  and  the  messenger  did 
all  he  could  to  persuade  Montrose  to  return  imme- 
diately to  Scotland. 

After  reading  a  letter  from  the  Queen  veiy  much 
to  the  same  purpose,  our  hero  resolutely  refused  to 
carry  out  any  of  Ashburnham's  suggestions. 

The  King,  he  said,  had  ordered  him  to  wait  in 
France  for  his  'further  commands,'  and  he  was 
certain  that  Her  Majesty  the  Queen  would  not  wish 
him  to  disobey  Charles's  orders. 

Montrose  was  in  Flanders,  on  his  road  to  Paris, 
when  this  curious  meeting  took  place. 

Determined  to  try  and  prevent  his  arrival  there, 
Ashburnham  then  resorted  to  another  plan  of  action. 

He  pretended  to  have  the  deepest  interest  in  our 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  205 

hero.  *Why,'  urged  he,  'should  you  sacrifice  all 
your  future  prospects  to  a  falling  cause  ?  Why  not 
go  back  to  Scotland  and  make  your  peace  with  the 
Covenanters,  and  keep  yourself  in  readiness  for 
better  times  ?'  This  crafty  messenger  even  declared 
that  he  was  ready  to  secure  Charles's  full  consent  to 
such  a  scheme. 

'No  one,'  replied  Montrose,  'is  readier  than  I  to 
obey  His  Majesty,  but  I  cannot  obey  him  by  acting 
in  the  manner  you  propose — dishonourable  alike  to 
him  and  to  me.' 

Independently  of  his  dread  of  losing  his  influence 
with  Henrietta,  should  the  Marquis  appear  in  Paris, 
Jermyn  was  very  angry  that  the  King  had  appointed 
Montrose  ambassador  in  Paris,  for  up  to  this  time 
Jermyn  himself  had  filled  the  post. 

To  please  the  Scots,  Charles  the  First  had  been 
compelled  to  sacrifice  Montrose  by  consenting  to  his 
exile,  and  the  forfeiture  of  all  his  estates.  To 
appease  the  Marquis's  anger  at  those  conditions, 
Charles  had  made  him  ambassador  in  France. 

When  he  arrived  in  Paris,  Montrose  found  that  no 
letters  or  credentials  had  been  sent  as  promised 
him  by  the  King ;  and  all  he  could  therefore  do, 
was  to  entreat  Henrietta  to  allow  him  to  make 
another  attempt  to  save  Charles,  for  by  this  time 
Montrose  knew  of  his  having  been  given  up  by  the 


2o6  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

Scots,   and   to   furnish    him  with  a  small    sum  of 
money. 

Henrietta  Maria  had,  however,  no  power  to  help 
Montrose.  Her  money  was  appropriated  by  the 
dissolute  and  scheming  courtiers  about  her  (many  of 
whom  were  even  paid  by  the  rebels  to  report  all  that 
passed  at  her  Court  to  the  English  Government). 

With  a  heavy  heart,  then,  the  Marquis  quitted 
Paris  and  retired  to  Germany. 

There  were  several  men  at  Paris  who  were  far 
more  capable  of  appreciating  the  beauty  of  Mon- 
trose's character  than  the  heartless  courtiers  about 
the  English  Queen.  Among  the  brilliant  throng 
surrounding  the  French  Monarch  at  that  epoch,  none 
were  more  witty  or  celebrated  than  the  Cardinal  de 
Retz. 

He  describes  our  hero  as  'Alontrose,  a  Scottish 
nobleman,  head  of  the  house  of  Graham— the  only 
man  in  the  world  who  has  even  quite  realized  my 
idea  of  a  hero — such  a  hero  as  Plutarch  describes  to 
us  in  his  Lives !  He  has  sustained  the  cause  of  the 
King  his  master  in  his  own  country  with  a  greatness 
of  soul  unequalled  in  our  age  ! ' 

After  the  unhappy  monarch  had  fled  to  the  Isle 
of  Wight,  various  intrigues  were  set  on  foot  in  both 
Scotland  and  England,  which  more  or  less,  although 
most  of  them   were   ostensibly   undertaken    in    the 


{ 


The  Vow  of  Mofitrose.  207 

King's  name,  were  simply  begun  from  selfish  motives 
of  aggrandizement.  Huntly's  efforts  had  failed,  and 
he  himself  was  in  prison  ;  but  new  champions  had 
sprung  up  for  the  monarchy,  and,  strange  to  say,  in 
the  persons  of  two  men,  both  of  whom  were  rivals, 
and  had  been  bitter  enemies  to  the  King.  The  first 
was  Hamilton,  the  second  Argyle. 

A  great  split  had  long  before  this  period  divided 
the  Presbyterians  in  England  and  Scotland  from  the 
Independents,  whose  power  all  who  disagreed  with 
them — the  majority  in  both  countries — dreaded  far 
more  than  the  bad  government  of  Charles  or  the 
tyranny  of  the  Covenanters. 

In  all  revolutions  there  is  something  to  be  said  in 
favour  of  both  sides ;  and  although  all  that  is  romantic 
and  chivalrous  in  the  English  character  was  deeply 
stirred  by  the  fate  of  Charles  the  First,  and  the 
dignity  with  which  he  met  death,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  his  own  errors  as  a  king  greatly  tended  to  his 
doom.  His  inflexible  persistence  in  imposing  his 
own  religious  views  too  urgently  on  his  people,  as 
well  as  his  arbitrary  government,  had  drawn  to  the 
opposite  side  many  a  man  whose  adherence  to  the 
Puritans  resulted  solely  from  motives  of  the  purest 
patriotism. 

But  such  men  shrank  back  appalled  and  disgusted 
with  the  fanaticism  of  the  Independents. 


2o8  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Among  the  former,  many  were  members  of  the 
Parliament  who  began  to  dread  the  ascendancy  of 
the  army.  The  step  taken  by  Cromwell  when  he 
seized  the  King's  person,  more  than  ever  opened 
their  eyes  to  the  danger  of  allowing  military  counsels 
to  prevail  in  the  government.  Before,  however,  they 
had  time  to  carry  out  their  intention  and  commit 
Cromwell  to  the  Tower,  that  clever  man  had  eluded 
them  and  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  troops. 

The  English  Presbyterians  were  perfectly  aghast 
when  they  saw  Cromwell  at  the  head  of  affairs,  and 
immediately  entered  into  private  negotiations  with 
Charles,  preferring  even  an  Episcopalian  King  to 
the  fanaticism  of  the  Independents. 

Montrose  mistrusted  the  leaders  of  the  Scottish 
Government,  and  he  therefore  heard  with  grave 
apprehension,  that  after  having  three  times  marched 
into  England  against  the  King,  they  were  now  con- 
templating an  enterprise  in  his  favour. 

They  began,  as  a  preliminary  step,  to  treat  with 
the  Queen.  They  pretended  the  deepest  concern 
and  indignation  at  the  fact  of  Charles's  imprison- 
ment, and  soon  got  the  Queen's  ear.  She  knew  well 
enough  that  they  would  gain  no  advocate  in  Mon- 
trose. When  at  length  she  divulged  her  schemes, 
Montrose  with  difficulty  controlled  his  emotion  so 
as  to  answer  her  calmly. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  209 

He  entreated  her  to  put  no  faith  in  Argyle, 
Hamilton,  or  any  of  the  Covenanters.  He  pointed 
out  that  the  leaders  of  the  party,  now  apparently  so 
anxious  to  uphold  the  monarchy,  were  the  very  men 
who  had,  for  money,  betrayed  the  King  to  the 
English  !     He  proposed  to  her  a  middle  course, 

'  Let  me,'  urged  Montrose,  *  return  to  Scotland 
and  raise  an  army  for  the  royal  cause  among  such 
as  are  known  to  be  true  to  him.  Those  forces,  if  it 
please  your  Majesty,  can  be,  as  it  were,  a  reserve, 
ready  to  help  the  Scottish  Covenanters  should  they 
really  intend  to  fight  for  the  King,  or  to  punish 
them  should  they  (as  I  really  fear)  intend  a  second 
piece  of  treachery  ! ' 

But  all  the  eloquence  of  which  our  hero  was  so 
able  a  master — his  pleading  face  and  earnest  voice 
— were  powerless  with  Henrietta  Maria. 

The  Queen,  governed  by  a  faction,  accepted  Pres- 
byterian aid.  Sorrowfully  Montrose  left  her  presence 
and  Paris.  He  left  it  suddenly  in  March  1648, 
determined  not  to  witness  such  a  picture  of  ruin  as 
the  royal  cause  committed  to  its  enemies,  but  by 
retiring  to  Germany,  to  serve  the  King  in  his  own 
way. 

Montrose  was  famous  all  over  Europe,  Cardinal 
Mazarin  would  gladly  have  retained  near  his  own 
sovercisrn  a  hero  whose  deeds  were  well  known  in  all 


2iOi  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

foreign  courts;  but  while  he  was  attempting  to  carry 
out  those  views,  by  offering  Montrose  high  rank  and 
a  mihtary  command,  Ferdinand  the  Third,  Emperor 
of  Germany,  had  also  made  overtures  to  the  Marquis, 
which  Montrose,  eager  to  escape  from  the  French 
Court,  gladly  accepted. 

He  hurriedly  left  the  French  capital,  and  got  into 
Austria  by  way  of  Geneva,  Bavaria,  and  the  Tyrol. 

Finding  the  Emperor  had  left  Vienna,  Montrose 
joined  him  at  Prague,  where  he  was  received  with 
the  greatest  possible  distinction. 

Although  Ferdinand  the  Third  no  longer  main- 
tained the  same  State  as  Charles  the  Fourth  of 
Germany, — who  was  served,  we  are  told,  on  State 
occasions,  by  the  seven  Electors  of  the  empire,  while 
three  archbishops  carried  the  seals  of  Germany, 
Italy,  and  Aries, — there  was  still  retained  much 
Court  ceremony.  The  deference  paid  to  rank,  and 
the  higher  morality  of  the  Germans,  better  suited 
Montrose's  stately  character  than  the  looseness  of 
the  Versailles  Court. 

Ferdinand  made  Montrose  a  Field-marshal,  dat- 
ing his  patent  from  the  year  1648  ;  and  when  the 
former  left  Prague,  the  Marquis  rode  at  his  right 
hand. 

But  not  even  such  brilliant  favours  could  banish 
the  imaGfc  of  his  fallen  Kinjr  from  his  constant  heart. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  211 

His  cause  was  ever  present  to  his  imagination  as 
an  aim  to  be  pursued,  served,  and  rescued  ;  for 
already  rumours  of  his  coming  fate  were  floating 
on  the  air. 

The  Emperor  gave  him  an  independent  command 
directly  under  himself;  but  although  gratefully  ac- 
cepted, the  post  was  accepted  by  Montrose  only  on 
one  condition,  and  that  was,  that  whenever  his  old 
master  needed  him,  he  should  be  free  to  return  and 
serve  him.  The  service  for  which  Montrose  was 
selected  was  the  levying  of  recruits,  and  the  Emperor 
yielded  to  our  hero's  entreaties  that  his  sphere  of 
action  should  be  as  near  England  as  it  could  be. 

The  Emperor  gave  him  letters  of  introduction  to 
his  brother  the  Archduke  Leopold,  Governor  of  the 
Netherlands ;  but  as  the  hostile  armies  of  France 
did  not  allow  travellers  to  enter  Flanders  by  the 
direct  way,  Montrose  was  compelled  to  take  a  very 
circuitous  route  to  get  to  Brussels.  He  embarked 
from  Dantzic  for  Denmark,  where  he  was  enthusi- 
astically welcomed  ;  and  after  enjoying  the  highest 
honours  for  a  few  days,  crossed  over  into  Friesland, 
and  at  length  reached  Brussels. 

He  found  that  Leopold,  defeated  by  Conde,  had 
retired  to  Tournay,  whither  he  hurried  to  present 
his  credentials.  The  Archduke  received  him  with 
much  attention  ;  and  when  he  returned  to  Brussels, 


212  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

towards  the  end  of  the  year,  Montrose  accompanied 
him  to  that  city,  where  he  was  rejoined  soon  after 
by  his  nephew  Lord  Napier,  whom  he  had  left 
behind  him  in  Paris,  and  several  other  English  and 
Scottish  Cavaliers. 

But  Montrose  was  not  destined  by  fate  to  un- 
sheath  his  sword  in  the  Archduke's  cause.  A  sum- 
mons was  at  hand  to  that  loyalest  of  all  gentlemen, 
which  was  to  call  him  back  to  Scotland. 

The  better  to  understand  our  hero's  history,  we 
must  return  to  King  Charles,  then  a  lonely  prisoner 
in  Carisbrooke  Castle. 

The  Scottish  Covenanters  were  now  divided  into 
two  parties.  They  had  determined  to  invade 
England,  and  revenge  the  breach  of  faith  which 
they  considered  had  been  shown  them  by  the  In- 
dependents, in  not  establishing  the  Presbyterian 
faith  in  England.  Argyle  headed  this  section  of 
the  Covenanters ;  but  there  was  another  party,  led 
by  the  Hamiltons,  who  maintained  that  the  object 
in  invading  England  was  to  rescue  Charles,  whom 
they  declared  to  be  unjustly  kept  prisoner,  against 
the  conditions  of  their  treaty  with  the  English. 
The  King  had  signed  a  secret  agreement  with  these 
Scottish  Presbyterians,  that  should  their  efforts 
prove  successful,  he  would  sign  the  Covenant ;  but 
Argyle  and  his  followers  mistrusted  Charles's  sin- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  213 

cerity,  and  would  not  therefore  consent  to  any 
overtures  for  placing  him  again  on  the  throne.  The 
consequence  was,  that  the  Hamiltonians,  who  pro- 
fessed the  greatest  attachment  to  the  King's  person, 
headed  a  large  party,  and  Scotland  was  split  up  into 
two  sections  holding  different  opinions. 

Hamilton's  was  a  strong  party ;  many  of  those 
who  had  fought  under  Montrose  joining  him,  under 
the  belief  that  he  was  loyally  true  to  the  King. 
Scotland  being  thus  rent  into  two  factions,  Hamilton 
raised  a  large  army,  amounting  to  more  than  forty 
thousand  ;  while  the  English  Loyalists,  inspirited 
by  the  hope  of  Scottish  aid,  prepared  to  rise  all  over 
the  kingdom,  and  even  appeared  openly  in  many 
parts  of  Wales  wearing  blue  and  white  ribbons, 
inscribed  with  the  words,  *  We  long  to  see  our 
King! 

So  universal  was  the  sympathy  awakened  by 
Charles's  sufferings  in  the  minds  of  the  loyal  Eng- 
lish and  Scotch,  that  his  rescue  might  have  been 
accomplished,  and  his  cruel  fate  averted,  but  for  the 
determined  opposition  of  Argyle  and  his  followers. 

They  formally  protested  against  Hamilton's  ex- 
pedition, although  the  Northern  Parliament  voted 
him  money  for  the  purpose. 

Argyle's  party  were  called  'Protesters;'  Hamilton's, 
*  Engagers,'  because  they  joined  the  association  for 


2 1 4  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

protecting  the  King's  cause.  Argyle  well  knew  how 
to  alarm  Scottish  fanaticism.  He  aroused  the  alarm 
of  the  General  Assembly  of  the  Kirk,  who  openly 
censured  any  persons  joining  Hamilton,  and  ap- 
pointed a  day  of  humiliation  and  fasting  through- 
out Scotland ;  on  which  occasion  the  Calvinist 
preachers  improved  the  opportunity  by  denouncing 
all  who  joined  the  expedition. 

Argyle  endeavoured  to  incite  the  Western  High- 
lands to  an  armed  opposition  ;  and  Hamilton  lost 
ground  by  temporizing  with  those  who  opposed  him 
instead  of  appealing  to  Parliament,  with  whom  he 
was  then  all-powerful,  to  crush  the  rebellion  in  the 
bud. 

On  the  lOth  of  June,  Argyle's  followers  assembled 
in  arms. 

General  Middleton  was  sent  to  quell  so  dangerous 
an  outburst.  He  found  the  insurgents,  numbering 
eight  hundred  foot  and  twelve  hundred  horsemen, 
drawn  up  at  a  place  in  Ayrshire  called  Mauchline 
Moor. 

Eight  ministers  were  with  these  misguided  men, 
who  went  out  to  treat  with  Middleton.  Nothing 
could  exceed  the  power  of  the  clergy  at  this  time 
over  the  minds  of  their  followers.  They  had  per- 
suaded the  rebels  that  salvation  alone  would  be 
theirs    who    fought    against    the    'Engagers.*      The 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  215 

valour  of  the  clergy,  however,  soon  subsided  when 
they  saw  Middleton's  approach  ;  and  they  imme- 
diately made  terms.  He  promised  a  free  pardon  to 
all  who  would  quietly  return  to  their  own  homes  ; 
but  they  would  not — such  was  their  fanaticism — 
accept  any  terms,  and  a  conflict  took  place  in  which 
several  lives  were  lost. 

This  encounter,  easily  quelled  as  it  had  been, 
fatally  retarded  Hamilton's  descent  into  England. 
The  delay  enabled  Cromwell  and  his  party  to  rally 
their  forces,  and  to  recover  their  lost  ground. 
Hamilton  and  his  friends  lost  time  that  they  could 
not  recover  ;  and  although,  when  at  length  on  the 
1 2th  of  July  1648  he  began  his  march,  he  was  joined 
by  a  considerable  number  of  Royalists  under  Sir 
Marmaduke  Langdale,  almost  all  the  insurrections 
in  England  in  Charles's  favour  had  been  crushed, 
and  the  Scottish  troops  barely  numbered  fifteen 
thousand  men,  although  forty  thousand  had  been 
voted  him  by  the  Parliament. 

The  end  of  the  expedition  was  fatal  indeed. 
Charles  was  fated  to  be  injured,  not  served,  by  his 
friends. 

Such  was  the  fanaticism  of  the  day,  that  the 
Scottish  Parliament  had  decreed  that  none  but 
they  who  had  signed  the  Covenant  could  join  the 
Scottish  army. 


2 1 6  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  Sir  Philip  Musgrave, 
and  others,  who  joined  the  Scots,  were  obHged  to 
form,  as  it  were,  a  separate  camp.  The  Duke  of 
Hamilton  did  not  consult  them  ;  consequently,  in- 
stead of  marching  through  Yorkshire,  a  county 
devoted  to  the  King,  he  dispersed  his  forces  into 
Lancashire  and  elsewhere,  and  proved  himself  al- 
together unequal  to  the  task  of  guiding  his  army 
southwards. 

At  length,  on  the  17th  of  August,  Hamilton 
sustained  a  defeat  at  Preston  in  Lancashire,,  where 
the  Duke  believed  himself  perfectly  secure  from 
attack. 

Sir  Marmaduke  Langdale,  surprised  by  Cromwell's 
squadrons,  received  the  first  brunt  of  the  battle,  and 
resisted  to  the  utmost ;  but  finding  that  Hamilton 
did  not  reinforce  him,  he  was  compelled  to  beat  a 
hasty  retreat.  Hamilton  fled  into  Preston.  He  did 
not  long  keep  that  town,  however  ;  for,  being  pursued 
by  the  Puritans,  ten  thousand  of  his  army  under 
Baillie  capitulated  to  Cromwell,  while  the  leader  of 
the  expedition  fled  to  Uttoxeter,  where  he  followed 
Baillie's  example  and  gave  himself  up  as  a  prisoner 
of  war. 

Hamilton's  brother,  Lanerick,  when  he  heard  of 
his  brother's  capture,  and  the  dispersion  of  his  army, 
was  made  Commander-in-chief  of  the  '  Engagement ' 


The  Vow  of  Monh'ose.  217 

party,  and  endeavoured,  with   the  aid  of  General 
Monro,  to  raise  another  army. 

They  gathered  together  about  five  thousand  men, 
chiefly  veterans  and  well-disciplined  troops.  Argyle 
also  got  together  a  small  number  of  followers, 
about  six  hundred  in  number ;  and  as  the  Mac- 
Caileam  Mor's  party,  though  fewer  than  the 
'  Engagers,'  had  numerous  supporters  in  Edinburgh, 
Monro  wisely  counselled  an  immediate  descent  on 
the  capital  itself. 

Lanerick,  like  Hamilton,  was  totally  unsuited  to 
be  commander-in-chief.  Disgusted  with  the  course 
of  events  in  England,  the  peers  and  gentry  of 
Scotland  were  all  eager  to  join  in  the  war  ;  but 
Lanerick's  appointment  was  unpopular  with  them, 
and  alienated  several  of  the  most  prominent  noble- 
men from  that  side. 

Instead  of  adopting  Monro's  advice,  Lanerick 
marched  to  Stirling,  at  which  place  Argyle,  ignorant 
of  the  Loyalists'  intention,  had  also  halted  on  his 
way  to  Edinburgh.  Argyle  was  at  dinner  when 
his  scouts  brought  him  word  that  the  Loyalists 
were  at  the  very  gates  of  the  city  battling  with 
his  sentinels.  Without  a  thought  for  any  one  but 
himself,  Argyle  mounted  a  fleet  horse,  and  fled 
out  of  the  city,  leaving  his  hapless  recruits  to 
protect  his  flight,  and  contest  the  passes  into  Stirling. 


2 1 8  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

The  Clan  Campbell,  braver  men  than  their 
craven-hearted  chief,  defended  their  posts,  till,  at 
length  overpowered,  they  fled,  many  being  either 
killed  or  drowned  in  the  river. 

Argyle  reached  Edinburgh  safely.  Lanerick  was 
by  no  means  trusted  by  his  own  party.  Whether 
from  timidity,  or  perhaps  from  a  not  unnatural 
dislike  to  draw  down  upon  himself  as  much  odium 
as  Montrose  had  done  by  shedding  so  much  Scotch 
blood,  Lanerick,  instead  of  boldly  meeting  the 
Protesters  in  battle,  meanly  temporized  with  them, 
and  at  length  actually  capitulated,  agreeing  to 
disband  his  whole  army. 

Thus  ended  the  last  effort  of  the  loyal  portion 
of  the  Scottish  Covenanters  for  King  Charles. 

When  Lanerick's  soldiers  were  told  of  the  dis- 
graceful capitulation,  their  grief  and  indignation 
knew  no  bounds.  Among  their  number  were  many 
who  had  fought  in  our  hero's  army,  and  had  joined 
Lanerick  in  the  full  belief  that  he  really  intended 
to  fight  for  Charles,  and,  if  possible,  save  him. 

*  Oh  for  Montrose  again  ! '  cried  they  ;  '  had  he 
but  been  here,  instead  of  being  vanquished,  we 
should  have  rec'.ored  peace  to  our  poor  land  !' 

Argyle's  party,  having  now  acquired  the  ascend- 
ancy, determined  to  act  promptly.  Argyle  invited 
Cromwell  into  Scotland,  received  him  in  Edinburgh 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  219 

with  great  state  and  pomp,  and  finally  settled  with 
him  the  execution  of  the  King, — an  act  on  which 
the  Independents  had  long  been  bent. 

It  had  been  Cromwell's  object  to  conciliate  the 
Covenanters,  as  long  as  he  was  ambitious  of  obtain- 
ing their  consent  to  the  King's  death  ;  but  that  act 
once  determined  on,  he  threw  off  the  mask,  and 
excluded  from  the  House  of  Commons  all  members 
the  least  in  favour  of  the  King.  One  Colonel  Pride, 
who  had  been  a  common  drayman,  was  the  instru- 
ment selected  by  Cromwell  to  'purge'  the  Parlia- 
ment ;  and  when  he  had  forcibly  prevented  any 
but  such  as  were  known  to  be  firm  Independents 
or  Republicans  from  entering  the  Commons,  the 
House,  consisting  of  only  from  fifty  to  sixty  mem- 
bers, declared  that  the  treaty  then  pending  between 
Charles  and  the  Parliament  was  null  and  void. 
From  that  hour  Charles's  fate  was  sealed. 

He  was  removed  to  Hurst  Castle,  a  dreary  prison 
in  Hampshire  ;  at  high  tide,  almost  surrounded  by 
the  sea.  During  his  imprisonment  at  Hurst,  his 
hair  turned  almost  white;  while  his  pale  and  dejected 
face,  as  he  paced  the  sands,  showed  that  he  had 
begun  to  realize  the  hopelessness  of  his  cause. 
With  great  dignity  he  resigned  himself  to  his  im- 
pending fate. 

Hamilton,  after  his  surrender,  was  imprisoned  at 


220  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

Windsor.     When  the  King  was  taken  to  Windsor, 
the  Duke  obtained  permission  to  see  him. 

*  My  dear  master,  my  dear  master ! '  he  cried, 
throwing  himself  at  the  King's  feet. 

*  I  have  indeed  been  a  dear  master  to  you,'  ex- 
claimed the  King,  as  Hamilton's  guards  rushed  in 
to  shorten  that  final  interview  between  Charles  and 
his  once  all-powerful  favourite. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  all  this  time  was  residing  at 
the  Hague;  and  Montrose,  who  was  at  Brussels, 
made  him  an  offer  of  his  services. 

Prince  Charles  detested  the  Presbyterians ;  and 
after  hearing  of  Hamilton's  failure  in  England,  and 
Lanerick's  loss  in  Scotland,  resolved  to  send  for 
Montrose.  He  wrote  to  him  in  the  early  part  of 
January  1649,  and  on  the  28th  of  that  month,  two 
days  before  Charles's  execution,  we  find  him  answer- 
ing the  Prince's  letter,  and  assuring  him  that  'he 
never  had  any  passion  on  earth '  stronger'  than  his 
devotion  to  his  King,  whose  fate  was  but  to  herald 
his  own. 

Sir  Edward  Hyde,  afterwards  famous  as  Chan- 
cellor Clarendon,  was  at  that  time  the  Prince's  chief 
adviser  at  the  Hague.  He  and  Prince  Rupert  were 
both  friendly  disposed  to  Montrose. 

Between  Hyde  and  Montrose  letters  had  passed  ; 
and  an  interview  had  been  arranged,  the  very  place 


The  Voiv  of  Montrose.  221 

being  chosen,  at  which,  so  it  was  projected,  the 
Prince  and  our  hero  might  meet,  when  the  news  of 
the  King's  execution  reached  Brussels. 

The  blow  was  none  the  less  felt  that  it  had  been 
partially  anticipated.  Rumours  had  preceded  the 
fatal  news,  and  Montrose  was  too  far-sighted  a  man 
not  to  know,  that  after  Cromwell  had  gone  the 
length  of  trying  the  King  in  Westminster  Hall,  his 
death  would  follow. 

Condemned  to  death  on  the  27th  of  January  1649, 
three  days  after  the  King  met  his  fate  with  a 
fortitude  that  redeemed  all  his  errors  and  previous 
weaknesses  of  character,  and  which  caused  an  instant 
revulsion  of  feeling  in  his  favour,  even  among  the 
spectators  of  the  tragedy. 

When  the  news  reached  Montrose,  it  affected 
him,  as  any  one  may  imagine  who  has  followed  his 
romantic  history,  and  seen  how  enthusiastically  he 
had  devoted  himself  to  his  King.  Loyalty  in  these 
days  was  a  duty ;  but  with  Montrose  it  was  a 
passion  and  an  expiation. 

Montrose,  horror-stricken,  indignant,  and  furious, 
fell  unconscious  to  the  ground  when  the  news  came 
of  the  King's  execution.  When  he  recovered,  he 
gazed  on  the  many  kind  and  sympathizing  faces 
around  him,  groaned  aloud,  and  hid  his  face  in  his 
hands. 


2  2  2  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

*  How,  after  this,  can  we  live  on  ? '  he  cried.  'We 
ought  to  die  with  our  King.  God  bear  me  witness, 
henceforward  hfe  will  have  no  charms  for  me.' 

His  chaplain  tried  to  rouse  him  from  despair. 

'Die,  my  lord!'  exclaimed  Dr.  Wishart ;  'on  the 
contrary,  talk  not  of  death !  Summon  up  all  your 
fortitude  and  courage.  Revenge  the  death — the 
murder — of  your  royal  master,  and  support  his  son. 
Such  a  course  will  be  a  better  honour  to  pay  the 
monarch,  who  has  been  killed.  Your  own  death 
would  only  gratify  your  enemies.' 

The  worthy  chaplain  in  speaking  of  revenge  had 
touched  the  right  chord.  Montrose  immediately 
roused  himself.  Drawing  himself  to  his  full  height, 
he  stretched  his  hand  towards  heaven,  and,  as  one 
inspired,  he  cried — *  Yes  !  Yes  !  I  will  live  !  But 
I  vow,  before  God  and  man,  to  devote  my  life  to 
avenge  the  royal  martyr's  death,  and  to  place  his 
son  upon  the  throne  !' 

He  then  retired  to  his  own  room,  where  he  re- 
mained for  three  whole  days  and  nights.  On  the 
third,  Dr.  Wishart  besought  him  to  let  him  see  him. 
Montrose,  who  had  forbidden  any  one  to  approach, 
admitted  his  chaplain,  who  found  him  pale  and 
sorrow-stricken,  but  resolute  and  firm,  meditating  on 
his  vow. 

As  soon  as  Prince  Charles  had  in  some  measure 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  223 

recovered  from  the  shock  of  his  father's  death,  he 
sent  for  Montrose.  Our  hero  hastened  to  the 
Hague,  and  stood  in  the  presence  of  the  second 
Charles. 

Hamilton's  execution  followed  that  of  the  King's, 
and  a  reign  of  despotism  was  established  in  England. 
Scotland  was  aghast  at  the  King's  fate.  In  spite  of 
the  extraordinary  influence  possessed  by  the  Pres- 
byterian ministry,  the  Scotch,  both  as  individuals 
and  a  nation,  were  loyal,  and  have  always  been 
attached  to  the  monarchy.  They  had  framed  their 
famous  Covenant  to  defend  their  religion,  attacked 
as  they  believed  by  Charles's  attachment  to  an 
Episcopal  form  of  Church  government ;  but  in  spite 
of  those  Covenants,  for  which  so  much  blood  had 
been  shed,  one  feeling  pervaded  Scotland  when  the 
fell  deed  was  done,  —  and  that  was,  horror  and 
dismay  ! 

They  forgot  how  they  had  joined  in  the  cry,  '  To 
the  rock  with  him !  To  the  rock  with  him  ! '  and 
only  remembered  he  was  their  anointed  King, 
descendant  of  their  own  Scottish  monarchy.  They 
loudly  protested  against  his  death,  and  forced  Argyle 
(who  has  been  accused  of  agreeing  beforehand  to 
the  execution)  to  proclaim  Prince  Charles  as  King, 
and  his  father's  successor.  Argyle,  it  is  true,  en- 
deavoured to  please  all  parties  in  Scotland,  by  an- 


2  24  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

nOuncing  that  the  only  condition  on  which  Prince 
Charles  could  ascend  the  throne  was  his  becoming 
Presbyterian  in  religion  and  Covenanting  in  politics  ; 
but  he  knew  that  there  was  a  strong  party  against 
the  Government  he  had  established,  and  dared  not 
openly  defy  it. 

So  strongly  was  popular  indignation  aroused  and 
excited,  that  probably  the  restoration  of  Prince 
Charles  would  have  promptly  followed  had  Argyle 
been  sincere,  and  had  not  the  fanatic  clergy  of  Scot- 
land exercised  an  arbitrary  and  usurping  power  under 
the  mask  of  religion. 

The  Presbyterian  clergy  laid  claim  to  a  voice,  not 
only  in  religious  but  in  every  state  matter  ;  and 
although  many  earnest  and  pious  men  had  first  pro- 
moted the  civil  wars  in  Scotland,  the  ministers  of 
the  Kirk  were  in  many  cases  fanatics,  who  stopped 
at  no  means  to  efi'ect  their  ends.  The  penalty 
attached  to  a  refusal  to  swear  to  the  Covenant  was 
death,  or  a  complete  renunciation  of  all  civil  rights. 
The  movement,  which  had  commenced  from  a  wish 
to  purify  their  faith,  had  become  so  great  a  tyranny, 
that  it  was  enough  to  designate  a  man  as  a  *  plotter ' 
or  'malignant'  to  drawdown  upo  him  the  dread 
sentence  of  excommunication. 

The  Scottish  people  had  for  the  time  become  a 
nation  of  fanatics.     They  looked  upon  any  amuse- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  225 

ment,  however  innocent,  as  sinful,  and  were  com- 
pletely swayed  by  the  clergy  in  every  action  of  their 
lives.  Argyle  devoted  himself  to  the  religious  party 
of  Scotland,  and  proscribed  all  who  disagreed  with 
him.  Forced  to  recognise  Charles  the  Second  by 
the  popular  feeling  of  the  day,  he  made  the  Prince's 
acceptance  of  the  crown  almost  impossible  by  the 
hard  conditions  he  persuaded  the  General  Assembly 
to  attach  to  the  offer. 

The  very  day.  that  Argyle,  yielding  to  popular 
feeling,  despatched  a  body  of  Commissioners  to  the 
Hague,  he  executed  the  Marquis  of  Huntly,  who 
had  suffered  a  long  imprisonment.  That  act  alone 
should  have  shown  Prince  Charles  how  little  Argyle 
had  really  his  restoration  at  heart ;  for  Huntly  was 
the  representative  of  one  of  the  noblest  families  in 
the  Highlands,  and,  in  spite  of  his  antipathy  to 
Montrose,  had  been  ever  devoted  to  the  house  of 
Stuart. 

Montrose,  after  joining  Prince  Charles  at  the 
Hague,  had  reason  to  be  fully  satisfied  with  the 
confidence  his  new  sovereign  bestowed  on  his  father's 
firmest  chamj^ion. 

Charles — whom  we  may  now  call  Charles  the 
Second — >gave  him  his  royal  commission  to  act  as 
his  Lieutenant  or  Governor  in  Scotland,  made  him 
General  of  all  his  forces  by  sea  and  land,  besides 


226  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

giving  him  letters  accrediting  him  as  his  Envoy  to 
the  German,  Danish,  and  other  foreign  Courts  sup- 
posed to  be  likely  to  help  the  royal  exile  to  mount 
his  throne. 

Montrose  urged  Charles  to  lose  no  time  in  in- 
vading Scotland.  He  himself  offered  to  raise  a 
small  body  of  Royalists,  and  by  a  spirited  effort 
regain  the  kingdom  for  Charles.  By  the  time  the 
Commissioners  arrived  at  the  Hague,  and  with 
solemn  mien,  slow  pace,  and  an  affectation  of 
superior  sanctity,  unfolded  their  proposals  to  the 
King,  our  hero  had  been  a  long  time  near  his 
sovereign.  Had  Charles  been  entirely  influenced 
by  Montrose,  he  would  have  placed  no  faith  in  the 
specious  nature  of  the  arguments  used  by  those 
about  him  to  weaken  Montrose's  influence  and 
thwart  his  schemes. 

Among  their  number  were  the  Earls  of  Lanerick 
and  Lauderdale,  who,  unhappily  for  the  royal  cause, 
had  joined  the  Court  at  the  Hague,  and  advised  the 
King  on  a  totally  different  course  to  that  proposed 
by  Montrose. 

While  Montrose  urged  immediate  action,  Charles's 
presence  in  Scotland,  and  no  treaty  of  any  kind 
with  Argyle  and  his  party  ;  Lanerick  advised  delay 
and  conciliation,  and  an  alliance  with  the  dominant 
government  of  the  northern  kingdom. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  227 

The  King's  own  feelings  prompted  him  to  confide 
fully  in  the  Marquis  of  Montrose  ;  and  when  the 
Scotch  Commissioners  had  unfolded  their  proposals, 
he  treated  him  with  all  the  more  respect  and  con- 
sideration that  the  Committee  of  Estates  had,  in  a 
letter  to  Charles,  violently  attacked  him,  and  de- 
manded his  instant  expulsion  from  Court,  as  one 
who  had  been  excommunicated  by  the  Kirk  of 
Scotland,  and  thereby  '  delivered  into  the  hands  of 
the  devil ! ' 

The  proposal  of  the  Commissioners  was  comprised 
under  three  heads  : — 

Charles  was  to  sign  both  Covenants  ;  to  promise 
faithfully  to  maintain  the  Presbyterian  form  of 
religion  in  Scotland,  as  well  as  to  favour  its  ex- 
tension to  England  as  soon  as  he  should  be  firmly 
established  on  his  throne. 

Secondly,  he  was  to  give  up  all  his  own  friends, 
and  be  guided  solely  by  Argyle  and  his  party  ;  and 
thirdly,  he  was  to  govern  solely  under  the  direction 
of  Parliament  and  the  General  Assembly. 

It  was  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  Charles 
would  deem  such  conditions  anything  but  con- 
temptible ;  but  they  were  vehemently  advocated  by 
several  noblemen  around  him,  including  Lauderdale, 
Callander,  and  Lanerick — the  latter  now  Duke  of 
Hamilton,   in    consequence  of  his   brother's   death. 


2  28  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

The  Marquis  of  Montrose  was  among  those  who 
would  fain  have  urged  the  King  to  decline  any 
proposals  from  the  General  Assembly.  He  pointed 
out  the  evidence  of  the  insincerity  with  which  such 
overtures  were  made,  instancing  the  execution  of 
Huntly,  and  the  marked  way  in  which,  when  speak- 
ing of  the  King's  execution,  they  avoided  calling  it 
regicide.  Charles  leant  strongly  to  our  hero's  views; 
and  when  Hamilton  and  Lauderdale,  in  their  eager- 
ness to  back  up  such  exorbitant  demands,  went  so 
far  as  to  denounce  Montrose  as  '  that  traitor,'  only 
treated  him  with  the  more  respect. 

The  Earl  of  Lauderdale  violently  attacking  Mon- 
trose one  day  at  Court,  a  nobleman  present  inquired 
'  what  offence  the  Marquis  had  committed.'  In 
reply,  Lauderdale  accused  him  of  great  cruelty  and 
inhumanity,  and  alleged  that  he  had  always  refused 
quarter,  and  completely  ruined  whole  clans  and 
families  ;  adding,  'his  behaviour  had  been  so  savage 
that  Scotland  would  never  forgive  him  !* 

The  King  begged  all  his  Scottish  nobles  to  advise 
him  on  so  weighty  a  matter ;  but  Hamilton  and 
Lauderdale  refused  to  meet  our  hero  in  council. 
Probably  they  dreaded  the  eloquence  and  talent  of 
Montrose,  in  a  right  cause,  telling  against  them. 

Montrose  then  put  his  advice  on  paper,  and  while 
urging  the  King  to  proceed  to  Scotland,  again  offered 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  229 

to  head  a  movement  in  that  kingdom  in  favour  of 
the  monarchy. 

Charles,  however,  adopted  a  middle  course.  He 
kept  the  Commissioners  in  play,  and  did  not  entirely 
decline  Montrose's  services.  He  left  the  Hague  and 
went  back  to  France,  under  pretext  of  consulting 
Queen  Henrietta  Maria,  who  was  still  resident  at 
the  French  King's  Court. 

Although  the  Commissioners  pretended  great 
indignation  at  Charles's  rejection  of  their  hypo- 
critical offers,  they  were  secretly  rejoiced  that, 
instead  of  adopting  Montrose's  advice,  and  return- 
ing to  Scotland,  he  had  gone  to  France  ;  for  they 
knew  that  a  large  party  were  only  waiting  for  their 
sovereign's  presence  to  proclaim  him  king  over  his 
ancient  kingdom  of  Scotland. 

Montrose  had  every  reason  to  maintain  his  own 
opinion  that  Scotland  was  ripe  for  a  new  enterprise 
in  Charles's  favour ;  but  the  King,  doubtful  whether 
the  enterprise  would  succeed,  gave  him  no  written 
authority  for  a  second  attempt  till  he  had  first  con- 
sulted his  mother.  The  Marquis,  meanwhile,  fully 
empowered  by  Charles,  visited  several  foreign  Courts 
to  solicit,  in  the  King's  name,  aid  and  assistance. 

He  met  with  a  great  deal  of  sj-mpathy  from 
several  of  the  princes  of  Germany,  and  a  favourable 
hearing  from  the  Emperor  himself     Wherever  he 


2  30  The  Fiery  Ci'oss  ;  or, 

went  he  was  received  with  respect ;  for  while  his 
countrymen — at  least  such  as  were  Cavaliers — de- 
clared Montrose  to  be  the  only  one  of  the  King's 
generals  they  could  trust,  his  military  fame  was 
fully  recognised  at  all  foreign  Courts. 

The  King  of  Denmark  and  the  Queen  of  Sweden 
both  promised  aid  ;  and  he  found  that  on  the  Conti- 
nent universal  sympathy  was  felt  for  the  King, — the 
cruel  execution  of  Charles  the  First  having  aroused 
feelings  of  indignation  throughout  Europe.  At 
length  Montrose  received  the  King's  written  sanc- 
tion to  a  descent  on  Scotland.  This  was  about 
the  middle  of  September  1649.  Urged  by  the 
impatience  of  the  Scottish  Cavaliers  to  see  their 
leader  once  more  among  them,  Montrose  sent  a 
portion  of  his  forces  to  the  Orkney  Isles,  which 
he  selected  as  the  safest  place  of  meeting. 

An  insurrection  in  favour  of  the  King  had  already 
taken  place  in  Scotland,  set  on  foot  by  Lord  Sea- 
forth's  brother,  Mr.  Thomas  Mackenzie.  The  move- 
ment had  been  largely  augmented  by  several  Scottish 
nobles  and  gentry,  who  had  escaped  out  of  England ; 
and  who,  finding  their  houses  and  lands  seized  and 
sequestered,  were  burning  for  revenge. 

Argyle,  with  a  view  to  preventing  any  further  in- 
surrection, had  organized  an  army  of  between  three 
and  four  thousand  troops,  whom  he  placed  under 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  231 

General  Leslie  and  other  Presbyterian  leaders  ;  but 
Mackenzie  had  defied  him,  wresting  Inverness  from 
its  garrison  ;  and,  at  the  head  of  a  large  body  of 
Northern  Cavaliers  and  several  Lowlanders,  had  ad- 
vanced beyond  the  River  Spey. 

The  Queen  of  Sweden  promised  Montrose  arms, 
and  the  Duke  of  Holstein  offered  five  large  ships 
and  about  seven  or  eight  hundred  men.  He  re- 
ceived urgent  letters  from  the  Scottish  Cavaliers,  as 
well  as  a  deputation  from  Orkney,  entreating  him 
not  to  wait  for  his  own  forces,  but  to  join  them  in 
Scotland,  where  the  very  sight  of  his  face,  they 
urged,  was  sufficient  to  rally  twenty  thousand  men 
to  his  standard.  In  Ireland,  the  Marquis  of  Ormond 
had  taken  up  arms  against  the  Puritans,  and  the 
English  Loyalists  were  ready  to  join  Montrose,  so 
disgusted  were  they  at  the  proposals  made  to,  and 
partly  accepted  by,  the  King  from  the  Scottish 
Commissioners. 

Montrose  had  reaped  the  fruits  of  his  enthusiastic 
love  of  glory  in  his  first  campaign.  No  wonder, 
then,  that,  urged  to  immediate  action  from  Scotland, 
and  dreading  that,  as  soon  as  the  King  had  signed 
the  treaty  with  the  Scottish  Commissioners,  he 
would  withdraw  his  secret  instructions  to  Montrose 
to  proceed  with  the  expedition,  our  hero  issued  a 
declaration,  in  which  he  accused  the  Covenanters  of 


232  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

'having  betrayed  and  sold  their  King.'  It  was 
dated  from  Sweden.  Charles  was  then  at  Jersey, 
on  the  point  of  meeting  the  Scottish  Commissioners 
in  Holland,  with  a  view  to  accepting  their  terms  and 
signing  the  treaty ;  and  though  he  was  about  to 
take  a  step  that  would  put  a  complete  stop  to  Mon- 
trose's expedition,  he  continued  to  write,  urging  him 
to  expedition,  and  sending  him  a  present  of  the 
George  and  Riband  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter,  which 
fact  refutes  the  charge  against  our  hero,  that  he 
acted  totally  in  opposition  to  the  King's  commands. 

The  Earl  of  Morton  had  agreed  to  allow  Mon- 
trose's troops  to  land  in  the  Orkney  Islands ;  but  the 
first  supply  of  men  despatched  thither  had  mostly 
perished  by  shipwreck.  Two  hundred  alone,  out  of 
twelve  hundred  sent  off  from  Gottenburg,  reached 
Scotland. 

The  Earl  of  Morton,  however,  and  several  of  the 
leading  gentry  of  that  part  of  Scotland,  joined  the 
gallant  remnant,  and  under  that  nobleman  imme- 
diately took  a  strong  castle  called  Birsay. 

Unfortunately,  an  altercation  took  place  between 
the  Earl  of  Morton  and  the  Earl  of  Kinnoul  as  to 
which  of  them  should  command  those  troops,  which 
ended  in  the  discomfiture  of  the  former.  This  so 
deeply  affected  him,  that  soon  afterwards  he  died 
of  mortification  and  annoyance. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  233 

While  all  Scotland  was  ringing  with  our  hero's 
declaration,  and  the  Presbyterian  clergymen  de- 
nouncing its  author  as  that  '  traitor  James  Graham  !' 
Montrose,  misled  by  the  too  sanguine  views  of  the 
Scottish  Cavaliers,  and  his  own  enthusiasm,  was  on 
his  road  to  Scotland  to  begin  a  second  campaign  ; 
and  to  consummate  his  vow  ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

*I  charge  thee,  boy,  if  ere  thou  meet 
With  one  of  Assynt's  name, 
Be  it  upon  the  mountain's  side, 
Or  yet  within  the  glen  ; 
Stand  he  in  martial  gear  alone. 
Or  backed  by  armed  men. 
Face  him,  as  thou  wouldst  face  the  man 
Who  wronged  thy  sire's  renown  ; 
Remember  of  what  blood  thou  art, 
And  strike  the  caitiff  down  ! ' 

— Aytoun. 


I'M  the  same  resolute  and  undaunted  spirit 
as   that   in  which   Montrose   had  so   re- 
luctantly  given   up  the  first  expedition, 
he  set  about  the  second. 

Disregarding  all  the  fears  expressed  by  the  more 
moderate  members  of  the  Cavalier  party,  and  count- 
ing not  the  cost  of  the  enterprise  should  it  fail, 
Montrose  set  out  upon  the  expedition.  Confident  of 
the  justice  of  his  cause,  energetic  and  enthusiastic, 

no  arguments  as  to  its  danger  were  likely  to  thwart 

234 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  235 

his  designs.  '  Nil  medium,'  the  motto  on  his  banner, 
is  the  keynote  to  his  character.  Love  of  glory  was 
his  passion,  added  to  which  he  was  superstitious 
enough  to  ascribe  importance  to  an  old  legend  in 
his  family,  predicting  that  he  was  to  '  revenge  the 
King's  death,  and  by  his  sword  become  the  greatest 
subject  in  the  land.' 

Montrose  at  this  time  was  a  middle-aged  man. 
The  illusions  of  youth  had  vanished,  but  not  its 
generous  impulses.  He  retained  to  the  last  the 
enthusiasm  of  youth.  He  is  described  as  middle- 
sized,  but  with  great  physical  strength,  well-propor- 
tioned limbs,  and  regular  features. 

His  hair  was  of  a  rich  dark  chestnut,  his  nose 
aquiline,  and  his  complexion  sanguine.  It  was  his 
eyes,  however,  that  impressed  all  beholders,  for  they 
were  quick  and  penetrating.  They  told  of  his  high 
soul  and  undaunted  spirit,  of  his  generous  heart  and 
purity  of  life,  in  an  age  distinguished  by  its  immo- 
rality ;  and  while  those  dark  grey  orbs  struck  terror 
into  an  enemy's  heart,  their  fierce  glance  would 
soften  when  he  gazed  on  the  face  of  a  friend. 
'  Montrose,*  as  an  old  writer  says,  was  '  exceeding 
constant  to  those  that  did  adhere  to  him,  and  to 
those  he  knew,  very  affable. 

His  manners  matched  his  face  and  figure.  They 
were  courtly,  though  perhaps  a  little  stately ;  while 


236  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

his  habitual  gravity — for  he  is  said  to  have  rarely- 
smiled  after  his  sovereign's  martyrdom  —  made 
strangers  believe  him  very  proud. 

Even  his  enemies,  while  attempting  to  blacken  a 
character  which  history  has  since  vindicated,  never 
denied  his  talents.  To  energy  of  character  was 
added  a  clear,  far-seeing  judgment ;  and  where 
others  had  hesitated  and  paused  for  reflection, 
Montrose,  seeing  with  a  glance  what  was  the  best 
course  to  take,  was  prompt  and  decisive  in  action. 
This  was  the  secret  of  his  success.  Such  was  the 
man  who,  with  a  handful  of  troops,  chiefly  foreigners, 
officered  by  Scotchmen,  and  barely  five  hundred  in 
number,  determined  to  invade  Scotland. 

Throughout  Scotland  the  Whigs  denounced  him 
as  '  that  wicked  and  excommunicated  traitor,  James 
Graham  ! '  and  hastened  to  reply  to  his  declaration 
by  one  of  their  own  ;  while  the  Presbyterian  clergy 
lost  no  time  in  warning  their  flocks  to  beware  of 
that  '  insolent  braggart,'  while  secretly  fearing  the 
prowess  and  success  of  one  whom  they  knew  as  no 
vainglorious  foe. 

Leslie  was  desired,  as  commander-in-chief,  to 
quickly  get  together  all  available  troops.  It  was 
no  easy  matter  to  do  so  as  urgently  as  was  needed, 
for  the  army  was  scattered  all  over  the  kingdom, 
and  could  not  at  a  moment's  notice  be  reassembled. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  237 

Before  sailing  for  Scotland,  Montrose  had  had  a 
last  interview  with  the  Second  Charles  at  the  Hague, 
and  was  invested  by  him  with  the  title  of  Lieutenant- 
Governor  of  Scotland,  and  had  given  him  full  sanc- 
tion for  the  enterprise. 

Montrose  then  made  a  tour  through  the  Northern 
States  of  Europe,  with  a  view  to  obtaining  assistance 
from  foreign  princes ;  for  even  he  dared  not  under- 
take the  invasion  of  a  kingdom  without  money  and 
arms. 

The  enthusiasm  of  Charles's  ambassador,  and  the 
earnestness  with  which  Montrose  pleaded  his  master's 
cause,  dwelling  on  the  distracted  state  of  his  country, 
and  the  great  crime  the  Republicans  had  committed 
in  putting  Charles  to  death,  met  with  a  generous 
response  from  the  King  of  Denmark,  the  Queen  of 
Sweden,  and  several  lesser  potentates.  The  King 
of  Denmark  gave  him  a  large  sum  of  money,  the 
Queen  of  Sweden  placed  fifteen  hundred  stand  of 
arms  at  his  disposal,  and  the  Duke  of  Holstein 
offered  him  five  large  ships  and  seven  or  eight 
hundred  soldiers,  which  offers  the  Marquis  joyfully 
accepted. 

Other  princes  promised  aid  ;  but  when  the  time 
arrived  when  Montrose,  depending  on  their  promises, 
expected  soldiers,  money,  and  arms,  they  failed  to 
keep  their  faith ;  probably  deterred  from  propping 


■d 


8  T/ie  Fiery  Cross ;  or^ 


up  a  falling  cause  after  the  first  reverse  of  his 
arms. 

Scotland  was  thoroughly  subdued  by  Argyle's 
party,  and  the  Independents  had  obtained  complete 
ascendency,  although  the  Cavaliers — a  numerous 
party — were  beginning  to  rebel  against  the  oppres- 
sions of  that  upstart  faction,  and  had  secretly  assured 
Montrose  that  they  were  ready  to  support  him  as 
soon  as  he  landed  in  Scotland. 

The  arrogance  of  the  Presbyterians  was  indeed 
sufficient  to  disgust  all  moderate  men.  Not  con- 
tent with  denouncing  Episcopacy  from  the  pulpit, 
they  proscribed  all  who  did  not  agree  in  their 
rigid  religious  views ;  and  a  system  of  persecu- 
tion ensued,  which  was  as  great  and  oppressive  as 
any  hitherto  endured  in  the  annals  of  history.  The 
upper  classes  in  Scotland  were  generally  Episco- 
palian ;  and  the  proscribed  party  included  so  many 
of  the  aristocracy,  that  the  nobility  were  but  scantily 
represented  in  the  Scottish  Parliament,  and  on  one 
occasion,  in  1649,  only  four  'lords'  were  among  the 
barons  and  burgesses. 

Argyle's  spies  were  scattered  over  the  kingdom, 
and  any  who  dared  to  differ  from  the  prevailing 
party  were  subjected  to  every  species  of  persecution, 
and  heavily  fined  if  they  resisted. 

The  Cavaliers  therefore  having  placed  all  their 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  239 

hopes  on  the  King's  restoration,  readily  promised 
Montrose  their  support ;  and  the  Duke  of  Ormond 
succeeding  in  Ireland,  where  he  had  taken  up  the 
royal  cause,  Montrose  trusted  that  as  soon  as  he 
landed  he  might  possibly  receive  help  from  that 
quarter. 

But  the  first  beginning  of  his  campaign  proved 
disastrous.  The  ships  and  troops  given  him  by 
his  foreign  friends  were  kept  waiting  a  long  time 
off  Holland,  owing  to  the  neglect  of  Montrose's 
agent,  Colonel  Ogilvie,  whom  he  had  sent  to 
Amsterdam  to  look  after  them ;  while  another  of 
his  agents,  one  Colonel  Cochran,  whom  he  had 
employed  to  raise  money  in  Poland,  turned  against 
him,  and  appropriated  a  large  sum  that  had  been 
contributed  towards  the  expedition  by  Scotchmen 
in  that  country. 

These  vexatious  circumstances,  however,  were 
capped  by  a  far  more  serious  misfortune.  The  Earl 
of  Morton  had  promised  to  receive  Montrose's 
first  detachment  of  troops  in  Orkney,  and  accord- 
ingly twelve  hundred  foreign  soldiers  were  shipped 
from  Gottenburg  in  September  1649;  but  when 
they  got  off  the  dangerous  Orkney  coast,  two 
of  the  ships  were  lost  in  a  storm,  with  all  their 
crews,  as  well  as  the  greater  part  of  the  arms  the 
Marquis  had   collected.     In   this   way   a   thousand 


240  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

soldiers  perished  out  of  the  twelve  hundred  de- 
spatched from  Germany.  Two  hundred  only 
landed  at  Kirkwall,  where  the  Earl  of  Morton  at 
once  joined  them. 

The  Earl  had  been  induced  to  take  this  course 
of  action  by  a  definite  promise  from  Charles  that 
he  would,  after  his  restoration,  reward  his  services 
by  the  gift  of  some  church  lands  in  that  part  of 
Scotland. 

The  gentry  were  well  affected  to  Charles's  cause, 
and  with  their  help  Lord  Morton  took,  after  some 
resistance,  a  fortress  called  Birsay,  and  garrisoned 
it  for  Montrose. 

Morton,  however,  had  a  quarrel  with  the  Earl 
of  Kinnoul,  his  own  nephew,  as  to  which  of  them 
should  command  the  troops  until  the  Marquis 
arrived ;  the  latter  asserting  that  he  had  the  sole 
right  to  do  so,  as  Montrose  had  given  him  a  com- 
mission to  that  effect. 

The  dispute  between  the  two  Earls  had  such  an 
effect  on  Morton's  mind,  that,  as  already  stated,  he 
died  broken-hearted.  Kinnoul's  death  also  took 
place  before  Montrose  landed,  so  that  from  Sep- 
tember to  March  1650  but  little  progress  was 
made  in  raising  troops  in  the  Orkney  Islands,  and 
Montrose  found  scarcely  anything  done,  when  at  last 
he  once  more  set  foot  on  Scottish  ground. 


The  Voiv  of  Montrose.  241 

Orkney  was  undefended  by  the  Parliamentary 
troops,  and  the  gentry  were  loyal  to  the  King  ; 
but  the  Orcadians  were  unwarlike,  undisciplined, 
and  Montrose  had  no  cavalry  to  protect  such 
irregular  troops. 

The  first  act  of  the  Marquis,  when  resolved  on 
this  expedition,  had  been  to  issue  a  proclamation, 
or  defence  of  his  reasons  for  invading  Scotland. 
This  document  was  circulated  in  Scotland  before 
he  landed,  and  had  been  answered,  as  we  have 
seen,  by  a  counter-declaration  by  the  Whig  party, 
in  which  they  denounced  Montrose  in  no  measured 
language. 

While  the  little  vessel  that  was  bearing  Montrose 
and  his  gallant  companions  across  the  seas  was 
tossing  about,  detained  by  contrary  winds,  threat- 
ened by  storms,  and  yet  safely  bearing  him  to  his 
destiny,  how  many  a  bitter  thought  must  not  that 
loyal-hearted  Cavalier  have  given  to  Charles's  weak- 
ness of  character  !  Educated  under  his  mother's 
baleful  influence,  and  hating  the  Covenanters,  the 
Prince  had  not  been,  as  our  hero  well  knew,  wholly 
true  either  to  him  or  to  his  mission. 

True  it  was  that  Charles  had  received  Montrose 
warmly  at  the  Hague,  and  had  professed  for  him 
the  greatest  gratitude,  while  he  ratified  his  former 
military  commission,  and  gave  him  full  powers  to 


242  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

levy  money  and  troops  in  the  royal  cause  both 
in  Scotland  and  abroad  ;  but  while  loading  his 
fathers  staunch  servant  with  honours,  he  was  also 
in  secret  treaty  with  the  Covenanters  !  Montrose 
therefore  hoped  to  strike  such  a  decisive  blow  as 
should  ensure  success  to  the  royal  cause,  and  deter 
the  young  King  from  listening  to  those  whom  he 
justly  deemed  his  implacable  foes. 

It  must  have  seemed  indeed  scarcely  credible  to 
Montrose  that  Charles  could  listen  to  the  Scottish 
Commissioners,  whose  strict  ideas  of  morality  and 
doleful  faces  were  by  no  means  to  the  Prince's 
taste.  But  Charles  had  no  steady  principle.  He 
thought  to  keep  them  in  play  till  he  saw  how 
Montrose  succeeded.  The  Scotch  professed  to  be 
willing  to  declare  him  Scotland's  only  rightful 
king,  but  that  act  was  only  to  take  place  should 
he  promise  strict  oocdience  to  the  Covenant,  and 
to  new  obligations  and  oaths  framed  according  to 
their  own  sectarian  views. 

The  Commissioners  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
Hague  were  all  Republicans  ;  and  though  forced, 
by  the  turn  matters  had  taken,  to  recognise  Charles, 
were  anxious  to  do  so  only  in  such  a  manner  as 
would  cripple  his  prerogative  as  king,  and  banish 
from  his  Court  all  those  who  had  looked  on  Charles 
the   First's   execution   as    regicide.      Their  hatred 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  243 

was  principally  levelled  against  Montrose,  whose 
determination  and  bravery  they  knew  would  be 
exerted  to  avenge  the  King's  death,  and  even 
Argyle  and  all  who  had  consented  to  it. 

Montrose's  acute  mind  saw  all  the  dangers  that 
vacillation  in  Charles  would  produce  ;  and  as  he 
stepped  ashore,  in  the  month  of  March  1650,  it 
was  with  a  burning  desire  to  frustrate  the  secret 
plots  and  treaties  into  which  he  feared  the  King 
might  be  induced  to  enter,  unless  he  could  be  be- 
forehand with  the  Covenanters. 

If  Montrose  had  needed  any  proof  of  the  distrust 
and  aversion  he  felt  towards  the  party  then  treat- 
ing with  Charles,  he  must  have  found  it  in  the 
execution  of  the  gallant  Marquis  of  Huntly,  who, 
for  no  crime  except  that  Argyle  hated  and  feared 
him  as  a  rival,  had  been  beheaded  the  very  day  on 
which  the  Commissioners  had  been  despatched  to 
Holland  to  treat  with  Charles.  The  Marquis  of 
Huntly  had  been  Montrose's  rival  in  the  earlier 
times  of  the  Covenant,  and  it  is  said  that  Huntly 
never  forgave  his  conduct  in  those  days  when  our 
hero  was  a  Covenanter. 

Had  it  not  been  for  that  early  difference,  two 
such  loyal  and  staunch  Cavaliers  must  have  been 
firm  friends.  Huntly's  character  was  as  gallant 
and  noble  as  that  of  Montrose.     He  was  one  of  the 


244  ^'^^  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

most  powerful  chieftains  in  the  Highlands.  He 
was  head  of  the  Gordons, — that  brave  clan,  whose 
badge,  a  spray  of  ivy,  was  a  fit  emblem  of  fidelity, 
— and  his  high  rank  and  great  possessions  made 
him  formidable  as  a  foe  and  powerful  as  a  friend. 

The  Marquis  and  his  followers — '  stout  men  and 
true,  who  for  King  Charles  wore  blue ' — were  the 
last  who  laid  down  arms  for  the  royal  cause,  after 
the  King's  imprisonment  by  the  English  Repub- 
licans. At  last,  however,  the  Presbyterian  army 
took  Huntly  prisoner,  and — as  already  mentioned — 
he  was  thrown  into  the  common  jail  in  Edinburgh  ; 
and  the  very  day  that  the  Scottish  Commissioners 
sailed  on  their  mission  to  the  young  King,  that 
gallant  nobleman  was  executed. 

Montrose  had  sailed  from  Gottenburg  in  Decem- 
ber, and  it  was  March,  1650,  when,  accompanied 
by  his  natural  brother.  Sir  Harry  Graham,  his  old 
adversary  and  now  warm  friend  Sir  John  Hurry, 
Viscount  Frendraught,  and  five  other  loyal 
Cavaliers  of  note  and  distinction,  he  arrived  in 
Orkney.  The  perilous  voyage  and  shipwreck  that 
the  first  party  met  with  reduced  Montrose's  forces 
to  five  hundred  foreign  soldiers,  and  these  were 
reinforced  by  two  hundred  more,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Lord  Kinnoul,  who  had  garrisoned  Birsay 
Castle. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  245 

Montrose  must  have  felt  bitterly  mortified  to  find 
how  small  a  number  of  soldiers  he  could  muster 
round  his  black  flag,  then  the  royal  standard,  as 
emblematical  of  the  Marquis's  desire  for  vengeance. 
It  bore  ghastly  inscriptions,  with  a  device  of  three 
hands  clasped  in  a  cloud,  from  the  centre  of  which 
branched  out  three  naked  arms  and  hands  grasping 
bare  swords,  intended  to  designate  the  kingdoms  of 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland ;  while  on  it  was 
this  passage  from  the  43d  Psalm,  in  capital  letters  : 

*  Judge  and  avenge  my  cause,  O  Lord. ' 

The  flag  borne  by  the  foot  soldiers  was  also  black, 
and  had  painted  on  it  a  picture  of  the  late  King's 
head,  from  which  blood  was  represented  as  dripping. 
On  that  standard,  these  Latin  words  were  displayed  : 

'Deo  et  hie  tricibus  armis.' 

On  the  Marquis's  own  banner  of  white  damask  was 
the  Scottish  lion  rampant  on  the  top  of  a  rock, 
through  a  cleft  of  which  ran  a  gory  stream,  with  the 
embroidered  motto,  *  Nil  medium,' 

The  natural  position  of  Orkney  prevented  the 
Presbyterians  from  attempting  to  attack  Montrose 
as  long  as  he  remained  there. 

The  Whigs  had  publicly  burned  his  declaration 
the    month    before,    at    the    Cross    of    Edinburgh, 


246  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

denouncing  him,  by  the  mouths  of  their  active 
partisans,  the  Presbyterian  clergy,  in  such  terms  as 
these — 

'That  bloody  cut-throat,  truculent  tyrant,  and 
excommunicated  traitor,  James  Graham;'  or,  'the 
perjured  Covenanter,  with  his  Hieland  limmers  and 
vipers,  the  limbs  of  Satan  and  brood  of  hell !' 

But  hard  words  hurt  not,  and  for  the  three  weeks 
of  his  stay  in  Orkney,  Montrose  was  safe  from  his 
enemies. 

The  gentlemen  of  those  parts  were  all  loyal  and 
devoted  to  the  King's  cause  ;  and  with  the  assistance 
that  they  rendered  him  as  soon  as  he  unfurled  his 
sombre  standard,  he  was  able  to  muster  eight  hun- 
dred Islanders  among  his  forces.  Though  by  those 
means  his  little  army  amounted  in  round  numbers  to 
fifteen  hundred  men,  the  Orcadians  were  so  unwar- 
like  in  their  habits, — being  principally  fishermen  and 
farmers, — that  for  all  practical  purposes  he  could 
only  rely  on  his  foreign  troops. 

His  devoted  follower  Allaster  MacColkeitoch  was 
all  this  time  fighting  against  Cromwell's  soldiers  in 
Ireland,  and  with  him  were  Glengarry  and  Mac- 
donald  of  Clanranald,  who,  had  they  been  in  Scot- 
land, would  have  rallied  to  his  side  ;  so  that  Mon- 
trose found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  very  different 
army  from  that  to  which  he  had  been  accustomed, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  247 

when  at  the  sign  of  the  Fiery  Cross  each  resolute 
Redshank  had  *  followed  his  chief  to  the  field.' 

Thus  the  second  campaign  began  with  every 
element  of  failure  in  its  composition.  Yet,  with  his 
usual  enthusiasm,  Montrose  still  hoped  for  victory, 
although  to  any  one  less  sanguine,  victory  from  the 
first  seemed  hopeless. 

It  was  chiefly  the  peasantry  of  Pomona  whom 
Montrose  enlisted  during  his  three  weeks'  residence 
in  the  Orkney  Isles. 

The  Islesmen  of  those  out-of-the-way  parts  were 
ignorant  and  uncivilised.  They  had  probably  never 
seen  a  buff  coat  or  handled  firearms  before  Montrose 
bid  them  enlist  for  their  King,  determined  to  raise  an 
army,  however  rough  might  be  the  men  composing  it. 

The  Orcadians  were  at  that  time  grossly  super- 
stitious. They  believed  in  the  curious  old  folks' 
stories  about  witchcraft  and  the  powers  of  Satan  ; 
and  here  too,  in  common  with  their  neighbours  in 
the  Hebrides,  they  commonly  believed  that  all 
drowned  persons  became  seals.  There  is  a  legend 
in  accordance  with  this  superstition,  about  a  High- 
land chief,  named  Macphee  of  Colonsay,  which  is 
worth  quoting. 

This  Highland  chief  was  standing  one  day  by  the 
sea-shore,  when  he  descried  on  a  lonely  rock  a  lovely 
maiden  combing  out  her  yellow  locks. 


248  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

The  chief  was  so  struck  with  her  beauty,  that  he 
determined  to  catch  her.  He  unmoored  his  boat 
and  rowed  swiftly  forward,  taking  care  that  she  did 
not  see  him.  Arrived  at  the  rock,  where  he  found  a 
seal's  skin,  which  proved  that  she  was  a  mermaiden, 
he  seized  it,  and  so  prevented  the  lovely  maiden 
from  again  transforming  herself  into  a  seal.  In- 
stead of  restoring  her  mantle,  however,  he  gave  her 
his  plaid,  wrapped  up  in  which  he  rowed  her  to  land, 
and  bore  his  prize  safely  home  to  his  castle  on  the 
island. 

Then,  again,  the  Islanders  were  accustomed  to 
exercise  their  fishing  boats  before  starting  on  a 
cruise.  This  was  done  in  the  early  morning,  by 
filling  the  tapholes  with  water.  Then,  as  the  sun 
was  rising,  the  fishermen  would  pull  out  to  sea,  and 
burning  a  waxen  figure  in  the  boat's  centre,  and 
crying,  *  Satan,  avaunt,'  felt  that  the  evil  spirit  was 
chased  away,  and  that  they  might  safely  embark  for 
the  trip ! 

Others,  if  the  wind  rose  and  the  waves  tossed 
high,  would  try  and  propitiate  the  elements  by 
dashing  water  on  a  famous  blue  stone  kept  on  the 
altar  of  the  shrine  of  St.  Columba,  or  by  throwing 
money  into  a  church  built  in  honour  of  St.  Ronald. 

Such  ignorant  and  undisciplined  fishermen  were 
ill  calculated   to  replace  the  ardent  and   resolute 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  249 

Redshanks,  who   had   fought  so  bravely  in   Mon- 
trose's first  campaign. 

When  the  Marquis  had  enlisted  as  many  as  he 
could,  his  next  measure  was  to  get  the  means  of 
transporting  them  across  the  Pentland  Frith. 

He  therefore  laid  forcible  hands  on  some  old 
fishing  smacks,  and  embarked  his  soldiers  at  a  place 
called  Holm  Sound,  a  bay  in  Pomona,  and  sailing 
safely  across  landed  them  at  John  O'Groat's  House, 
a  place  in  Caithness.  The  Marquis  had  the  satis- 
faction of  feeling  that  he  had  not  lost  a  single  man 
on  the  passage. 

The  Cavaliers  had  been  over  sanguine  about  their 
reception  on  the  mainland.  Montrose  had  hoped  to 
enlist  in  Sutherland,  Ross,  and  Caithness  at  least 
three  large  regiments ;  but  the  peasantry  had  been 
tutored  from  the  pulpits  of  the  Kirk  to  consider 
'James  Graham'  a  cruel  and  devastating  foe,  and 
a  general  exodus  took  place  when  news  arrived  of 
his  vicinity.  Some,  rather  than  remain  to  meet 
him,  escaped  and  made  their  way  to  Edinburgh, 
three  hundred  miles  away. 

Montrose  acted  with  his  usual  energy.  He  pro- 
claimed the  King,  unfurled  his  black  flag,  and  bid 
all  swear  allegiance  to  the  throne ;  but  in  one 
instance,  a  Presbyterian  clergyman  preferred  martyr- 
dom to  compliance. 


250  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

*  What !  swear  allegiance  to  one  whose  first  act 
would  be  to  restore  Episcopacy !  rather  would  he 
die  !'  So  Montrose  sent  him  in  fetters  on  board  one 
of  his  ships  to  repent  his  imprudence  at  leisure.  One 
cannot  but  respect  the  minister  for  his  consistency. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Whigs  were  making  active 
preparations  to  meet  Montrose.  While  Leslie  was 
ordered  to  collect  all  available  troops  at  Brechin,  a 
skilful  soldier  and  Covenanter  was  despatched  north- 
wards, at  the  head  of  two  hundred  men,  to  help  the 
Earl  of  Sutherland,  who  was  then  busy  in  raising 
soldiers  to  oppose  the  Cavalier  army.  Strachanwas 
rapidly  followed  by  Leslie  with  three  thousand  foot 
soldiers,  marching  thirty  miles  a  day — so  eager  was 
their  leader  to  meet  Montrose. 

The  Marquis  felt  deeply  mortified  to  see  how 
prejudiced  his  countrymen  were  against  him  ;  but 
he  knew  that  there  was  also  a  large  and  dis- 
tinguished number  of  Highlanders  ready  to  rise 
and  help  him,  and  he  daily  hoped  to  see  them  reach 
his  camp. 

Alas !  his  hope  was  never  realized.  He  knew 
not  the  failure  of  that  rising  which,  headed  by  the 
Earl  of  Seaforth,  had  by  that  time  been  crushed 
by  the  implacable  Covenanters  under  Colonel 
Strachan, — the  very  same  soldier  now  marching 
onwards  to  meet  him. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  25  i 

A  little  body  of  gallant  Highlanders,  owning  no 
sympathy  with  the  sour-faced  Presbyterians,  had 
eagerly  waited  Montrose's  arrival. 

They  had  been  too  eager,  as  the  issue  showed. 
On  marched  their  gallant  band  under  Mackenzies, 
with  historic  names  ;  for  the  Lairds  of  Pluscardine, 
Redcastle,  Lakehouse,  and  Pennicke  were  all  there, 
with  the  brave  clan  Macpherson  ;  and  they  reached 
Inverness  unmolested  after  crossing  the  River  Spey. 

Their  arrival,  two  thousand  strong,  took  the  garri- 
son by  surprise,  and  the  castle  soon  fell  into  their 
hands.  After  demolishing  that  ancient  edifice,  and 
carrying  all  before  them  through  Morayland,  they 
encountered  at  Baldenie  a  large  body  of  Lowland 
cavalry,  headed  by  the  Whig  Colonels  Halket,  Kerr, 
and  Strachan. 

Not  all  the  gallantry  of  men  descended  from 
intrepid  Gaelic  ancestors  could  avail.  They  fought 
as  befitted  those  who  wore  badges  of  holly  and  box- 
wood ;  but  eighty  warriors  fell  to  rise  no  more,  and 
eight  hundred  were  taken  prisoners,  and  with  them 
all  their  chieftains. 

The  defeat  of  this  enterprise  emboldened  the 
Covenanters  ;  but  while  Strachan  and  his  comrades 
were  putting  down  what  is  called  *  Pluscardine's 
raid,'  Montrose  day  by  day  hoped  to  see  the  High- 
landers who  had  failed  in  that  enterprise  join  him 

K 


252 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


in  Sutherlandshire.  The  Earl  of  Sutherland  was 
a  Covenanter,  and  a  great  and  powerful  chief- 
tain. 

He  felt  naturally  alarmed  lest  Montrose  should 
attack  his  castles  of  Dunrobin,  Skibo,  Skelbo, 
and  Dornoch  ;  and  the  '  Morar  Chattu  '  hastened  to 
place  garrisons  into  those  seats.  Montrose,  however, 
did  not  attempt  to  attack  them,  but  passed  them  by 
without  firing  a  shot,  warning  the  Earl,  nevertheless, 
that  he  should  not  continue  to  be  so  forbearing,  and 
that  some  of  his  Cavalier  neighbours  would  lay 
waste  his  lands  should  he  remain  hostile  to  the 
royal  cause. 

Little  heeded  by  the  Earl  of  Sutherland  were 
those  threats,  for  he  knew  that  four  thousand  Low- 
landers  were  on  their  way  to  meet  the  Cavaliers, 
and  were  actually  at  Tain,  twenty  miles  off;  while 
Montrose's  little  band,  weakened  by  desertion, 
scarcely  numbered  twelve  hundred. 

All  this  time,  not  knowing  that  Seaforth's  rising 
had  failed,  Montrose  counted  on  the  aid  of  Pluscar- 
dine's  followers ;  but  hearing  and  seeing  nothing  of 
them,  he  thought  it  more  prudent  to  halt  before 
descending  further  on  the  Lowlands. 

He  therefore  encamped  at  the  top  of  the  Frith  of 
Dornoch,  in  a  valley  called  Stratheckle,  near  the 
junction  of  Ross   and    Sutherlandshire.     This  was 


The  Vozv  of  Monh'ose.  253 

six  days  after  the  Cavaliers  had  entered  the  Earl's 
county. 

Being  a  good  general,  he  had  endeavoured  to 
secure  the  means  of  retreat  should  the  necessity  for 
it  arise.  With  that  object  he  had  divided  his  little 
army  into  two  columns.  One  column  he  despatched 
southwards  to  secure  the  Castle  of  Dunbeath,  which 
belonged  to  Sir  John  Sinclair. 

Sir  John  was  absent,  but  Lady  Sinclair  had  placed 
herself  at  the  head  of  the  garrison  left  to  defend  it. 
With  bugles  sounding  the  Cavaliers  approached 
Dunbeath,  and  Lady  Sinclair,  in  her  husband's 
absence,  determined  to  make  no  resistance. 

Sir  John  Hurry,  who  knew  its  natural  advantages 
for  defence,  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  Lady 
Sinclair  disposed  to  make  none ;  and  in  return  for 
her  ready  compliance,  made  honourable  terms  with 
her,  and  allowed  the  dame  to  leave  it  unharmed, 
accompanied  by  all  her  servants. 

Well  might  the  Cavaliers  have  wished  to  take 
Dunbeath  ;  for,  built  on  a  high  rock,  at  the  foot  of 
which  dashed  the  ocean,  a  drawbridge  alone  con- 
nected it  with  the  mainland,  and  that,  when  drawn 
up,  made  it  almost  impregnable. 

Montrose's  brother,  Hany  Graham,  was  left  in 
command  of  it,  with  a  garrison  of  a  few  men.  Sir 
John  Hurry  then  rejoined  the  Marquis. 


2  54  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

All  this  time  the  enemies  of  Montrose  had  been 
planning  his  destruction.  The  Earl  of  Sutherland, 
who  knew  the  country  thoroughly  well,  had  advised 
with  the  Covenanting  generals  on  the  best  course  to 
pursue.  They  agreed  to  surround  him  on  all  sides, 
and  make  retreat  impossible. 

Had  Montrose  been  able  to  communicate  with  his 
friends,  he  would  have  heard  of  the  large  army 
hurrying  up  to  attack  him ;  but  Sutherland  had 
shut  off  all  passages  for  receiving  intelligence,  and 
Montrose's  Orcadians  and  foreign  soldiers  made  bad 
scouts,  owing  to  their  ignorance  of  the  country. 

After  securing,  as  he  believed,  a  retreat  to  Dun- 
beath,  Montrose's  next  step  was  to  get  possession  of 
the  Hill  of  Ord.  He  therefore  sent  five  hundred 
men  to  seize  it.  That  huge  mountain  of  granite, 
twelve  hundred  feet  high,  formed  a  pass  from  the 
county  of  Sutherland  into  that  of  Ross.  It  was  so 
narrow  that  only  three  men  could  ride  abreast  along 
it.  The  '  Morar  Chattu'  knew  its  importance,  and 
tried  to  reach  it  before  him,  but  he  retired  without 
disputing  the  passage  with  the  Royalists. 

This  had  taken  place  before  Montrose  himself 
passed  over  the  Ord  into  Sutherlandshire  ;  and  as 
soon  as  the  Covenanters  found  he  had  done  so,  the 
Earl  of  Sutherland,  by  taking  a  southern  route,  cut 
off  his  retreat,  while  it  was  agreed  that  Strachan 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  255 

should  attack  him  in  the  front,  at  the  head  of  the 
Munroes  and  men  of  Ross,  Leslie's  men  bringing  up 
the  rear. 

Meanwhile,  halting  at  Stratheckle,  and  ignorant 
of  the  vicinity  of  Strachan's  troops, — for  the  *  Morar 
Chattu's'  gillies  had  watched  the  Cavaliers  so  nar- 
rowly that  no  communication  from  their  friends  had 
been  suffered  to  reach  them,  nor  yet  any  tidings  of 
the  Lowlanders'  approach, — the  little  band  awaited 
its  doom. 

Each  hour  Montrose  hoped  for  the  advent  of 
those  true  and  loyal  Mackenzies  under  Seaforth  and 
Pluscardine,  while  all  that  time  some  lay  slain,  and 
some  were  in  prison,  mourning  their  ruined  hopes, 
and  reaping  the  reward  accorded  by  the  Covenanters 
to  their  loyalty  and  valour. 

The  Covenanters,  under  experienced  generals, 
were  within  twenty  miles  of  Montrose,  and  marching 
towards  his  camp,  before  he  became  aware  of  even 
their  vicinity. 

The  day,  Saturday  the  27th  of  April  1650,  was 
memorable.  To  the  Orcadians  among  the  Cavaliers 
it  must  have  been  an  ill  omen  that  the  battle  should 
fall  on  that  day  of  the  week.  They  believed  it  to  be 
*  uncanny '  to  begin  anything  important  on  that  day. 
They  would  not  marry  on  Saturdays,  nor  in  the 
month  of  May,  both  times  being  considered  unlucky. 


256  The  Fiery  Cross;  or^ 

The  Covenanters,  who  very  properly  respected  the 
keeping  of  Sunday,  hesitated  about  fighting,  for 
fear  that  the  battle  might  not  be  ended  on  the 
'  Lord's  day  ; '  but  at  length  it  was  decided  to  wait 
no  longer  for  an  encounter  that  Montrose  himself 
had  advanced  to  begin. 

The  Cavaliers  having  at  length  become  aware  of 
the  enemy's  presence,  Montrose  sent  off  a  body  of 
infantry  to  reconnoitre. 

The  Covenanters  finding  that  Montrose  had  taken 
that  step,  and  after  breaking  up  his  camp  at  Strath- 
eckle  advanced  two  miles  nearer  to  Carbisdale, 
determined  by  a  ruse  to  mislead  Montrose  into  the 
belief  that  his  adversary's  forces  were  but  a  few  in 
number.  The  Covenanters  knelt  down  in  the  soft 
deep  broom  that  grew  so  luxuriantly  in  those  parts, 
and  therefore  Montrose's  scouts  only  discovered  a 
few  horsemen. 

They  hurried  back  to  Montrose,  who,  thus  misled, 
believed  that  he  had  only  to  contend  with  Strachan's 
forlorn  hope,  and  therefore  calmly  awaited  their 
approach  on  a  low  piece  of  ground  near  a  river 
called  the  Kyle.  But  soon  he  heard  another  tale  ; 
for  in  the  distance  he  perceives  advancing  squadron 
after  squadron.  Strachan's  army  was  artfully  dis- 
posed, and  looked  more  numerous  than  it  really  was. 

Strachan  led  the  advanced  guard  of  a  hundred 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  257 

horsemen  himself ;  then  followed  another  column  of 
about  eighty  men  under  Colonel  Halket ;  the  third 
Captain  Hutchinson  commanded  ;  and  the  rear, 
composed  of  all  foot  soldiers,  was  officered  by  the 
Quartermaster  Shaw.  Montrose's  little  force  of 
foreign  soldiers,  Orcadian  peasantry,  and  a  few 
Highlanders,  were  marshalled  at  the  foot  of  a  hill 
called  in  Gaelic  *  Craigcaoin  Eadhan,' — *  The  Rock 
of  Lamentation,' — which  name  it  has  held  even  to 
our  own  day. 

The  fact  that  Montrose  had  no  cavalry  made  the 
combat  more  than  ever  unequal.  He  and  a  few 
officers  of  his  staff  alone  were  mounted.  He 
entrusted  the  King's  black  standard  to  a  gallant 
young  Cavalier,  Gilbert  Menzies  of  Pitfoddels,  who 
defended  it  to  the  last. 

The  Covenanters  paused  before  beginning  the 
conflict,  to  sing  psalms  and  read  passages  from 
Scripture,  calling  on  God  to  defend  their  cause  in 
battle,  as  in  olden  times  He  had  befriended  the 
children  of  Israel. 

Placing  his  hand  on  the  standard  of  the  Covenant, 
the  Puritan  leader  stood  opposite  Montrose's  little 
force,  and  pointing  them  out  to  his  soldiers,  cried, 
'  Behold  yonder  men !  They  are  not  only  our 
enemies,  but  those  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  This 
last  night,  I  have  been  dealing  with  the  Almighty 


258 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


God,  to  know  the  result  of  this  affair,  and  I  have 
gotten  it ;  for  as  sure  as  He  is  in  heaven,  they  are 
delivered  into  our  hands,  and  not  a  man  of  us  shall 
fall  to  the  ground.' 

As  he  finished  this  presumptuous  and  blas- 
phemous speech,  Strachan  led  his  men  on  to 
battle ;  but  he  first  of  all  rode  forward  alone,  at 
the  head  of  his  'forlorn  hope,'  and  desired  the 
infantry  to  crouch  down  among  the  broom  and 
heather  in  order  to  deceive  Montrose  as  to  his 
numbers. 

The  great  Marquis,  who  no  doubt  had  offered  up 
a  silent  prayer  for  success,  remained  stationary,  till 
he  saw  in  the  distance  a  long  line  of  Covenanters 
behind  Strachan's  horse.  The  Marquis  strains  his 
sight  again,  and  needs  no  other  glance  to  show  him 
Halket's  lancers,  and  Hutchinson's  cuirassiers,  with 
their  steel  caps,  gorgets,  and  breast-plates,  their 
weapons  being  lances,  swords,  and  pistols,  all  glitter- 
ing in  the  sunlight  of  an  April  day  ;  and  behind 
them  the  musqueteers  and  the  Sutherland  men.  He 
sees  that  he  is  caught  by  stratagem,  and  fears 
that  all  Leslie's  men  are  behind  this  advanced 
guard. 

The  musqueteers  spring  up  from  the  heather, 
and  carrying  their  weapons  pointed  towards  the 
Cavaliers,  advance  in  steady  order.     Montrose  gives 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  259 

hurried  commands  to  his  men  to  retreat  to  the  hill 
behind  them. 

It  was  steep  and  craggy,  but  sheltered  by  a 
wood.  If  they  gain  it,  thinks  their  leader,  they  may 
defy  the  Covenanters.  The  lancers,  dragoons,  and 
cuirassiers  will  be  powerless  if  the  Cavaliers  can 
but  reach  the  hill  in  good  order  before  Strachan  is 
upon  them.  Their  retreat,  however,  became  dis- 
orderly in  the  extreme.  The  Orcadians,  seeing  their 
dangerous  position,  ran  rather  than  marched,  and 
Montrose  finds  his  enemy's  horse  among  his  bufif- 
coats  before  they  could  reach  the  rocks. 

The  Islanders  scarcely  made  any  resistance. 
Most  of  them  threw  down  their  arms,  and  begged 
for  quarter.  Oh  for  the  Redshanks  of  old  !  They 
would  have  fought  to  the  last,  and  as  valiantly  as 
did  Montrose,  Hurry,  Menzies  of  Pitfoddels,  Powric, 
Ogilvie,  and  all  the  brave  Cavaliers  on  that  fatal 
day.  Alas  !  the  day  was  all  too  quickly  lost ;  and 
ere  the  sun  began  to  set,  the  star  of  the  great  Mar- 
quis, Scotland's  greatest  hero,  sank  to  rise  no  more 

The  Dutch  soldiers  behaved  admirably  ;  and  after 
managing  to  get  into  the  shelter  of  some  trees,  for  a 
long  time  kept  the  enemy's  horse  at  bay,  till  at 
length,  overcome  by  superior  numbers,  they  were 
forced  to  surrender. 

The  Orkney  men  made  no  such  resistance,  but 


26o  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

fled  like  a  flock  of  sheep,  and  were  driven  into  the 
river,  where  two  hundred  were  drowned,  while  several 
were  made  prisoners. 

Montrose  fought  like  a  hero  till  the  last.  His 
rich  Cavalier  dress,  his  plumed  hat,  and  above  all  the 
diamond  Star  and  Ribbon  of  the  Garter,  made  him 
a  conspicuous  figure  in  that  fearful  scene  of  blood 
and  carnage.  Yet,  though  fighting  in  the  foremost 
ranks,  the  bullets  failed  to  reach  him  ;  and  even 
after  his  horse  was  killed  under  him,  he  fought  on, 
while  young  Menzies,  bearing  the  King's  standard, 
strove  to  encourage  the  men.  Twenty  times,  some 
say  thirty,  that  brave  fellow,  refusing  quarter,  de- 
fended the  standard  entrusted  to  him  by  Montrose, 
till  a  bullet  struck  him  through  the  heart,  and  with 
a  smile  on  his  face  he  fell  to  the  ground,  his  right 
hand,  even  in  death,  still  grasping  the  precious 
charge.  Not  till  twelve  of  his  bravest  officers  had 
been  killed  by  his  side,  and  he  himself  had  been 
badly  wounded,  would  Montrose  confess  to  failure. 
Then  he  was  dragged  off  the  field  by  his  faithful 
friend  James  Crichton,  Viscount  Frendraught.  Per- 
ceiving that  his  army  were  all  routed,  drowned,  or 
prisoners,  Montrose  determined  to  save  his  life  by 
flight.  He  had  sought  death  among  his  soldiers, 
but  found  it  not.  He  had  no  horse ;  and  Lord 
Frendraufjht  ur^jed  him  to  use  his.     When  Montrose 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  261 

remonstrated  with  him,  he  begged  him  to  mount 
without  a  moment's  delay. 

'  What  matters  my  life  ?'  exclaimed  this  noble 
Scotchman,  assisting  Montrose  into  the  saddle. 

'  Save  yourself,  for  the  sake  of  the  King's  good 
cause  !' 

Lord  Kinnoul,  Sir  Edward  Sinclair,  Major  Sinclair 
of  Brim,  and  a  few  others,  fighting  their  way  off  the 
field  of  battle,  then  escaped. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  when,  with 
their  general's  flight,  the  battle  ended. 

A  short  hour's  bloody  work,  and  all  Montrose's 
hopes  were  ruined.  The  carnage  went  on  yet  for  a 
little  Mobile,  as  the  Covenanters  pursued  their  foe, 
and  made  the  greater  number  prisoners.  Nearly 
four  hundred  were  killed,  including  twelve  officers 
who  fell  by  their  general's  side  ;  and  it  is  said  that  so 
many  Orcadians  fell  by  that  '  Rock  of  Lamentation,' 
that  there  was  hardly  a  family  in  those  islands  who 
did  not  lose  a  relative  that  bloody  day. 

Strachan  himself  escaped  unwounded,  owing  to 
Uie  thickness  of  his  buff  coat ;  two  only  of  the  Cove- 
nanters were  killed,  and  one  was  drowned. 

The  generous  Frendraught,  nephew  to  the  Earl  of 
Sutherland,  having  no  horse,  was  wounded  and  soon 
made  prisoner.  Lord  Sutherland  sent  him  to  Dun- 
robin  Castle,  to  be  cured  of  his  wounds  ;  but  Hurry 


262  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

and  the  other  officers,  among  whom  were  both 
Scottish  noblemen  and  CavaHers  of  noble  family, 
with  several  Dutch  and  Swedish  officers,  were  sent 
off  to  Edinburgh,  where  they  were  imprisoned  for  a 
time,  many  being  ultimately  exiled  or  executed. 

When  the  Covenanters  seized  the  King's  standards, 
and  among  them  the  black  flag,  bearing  an  effigy  on 
it  of  their  martyred  sovereign's  gory  head,  their 
exultation  knew  no  bounds.  Collecting  together 
those  gallant  and  unfortunate  gentlemen  and  men 
who  had  fallen  into  their  hands  as  prisoners,  they 
prepared  to  return  to  the  Covenanters'  headquarters  i 

at  Tain,  fourteen  miles  off.  What  must  not  the 
Cavaliers  have  felt,  as  they  heard  their  captors 
return  thanks  to  God  for  their  victory  !  Doubtless, 
even  in  the  midst  of  their  own  misery,  they  groaned 
in  spirit  at  the  prospect  of  what  Montrose's  own 
sad  fate  would  be  ! 

The  Sutherland  men  pursued  the  stragglers,  and 
for  the  few  following  days  slaughtered  all  whom 
they  captured  ;  but  Strachan's  men  marched  back 
at  once  to  Tain. 

The  Parliament  considered  that  Strachan  had 
effectually  quelled  what  they  termed  the  rebellion, 
and  publicly  thanked  him  for  his  services,  giving 
him  j^iooo,  and  a  valuable  gold  chain  and  diamond 
clasp  as  a  reward  for  such  great  deeds.    One  triumph 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  26 


o 


only  was  needed.  In  spite  of  the  long  line  of  noble 
prisoners  whom  Strachan  sent  to  Edinburgh, 
Argyle's  hatred  and  thirst  for  blood  remained  un- 
quenched  as  long  as  the  hills  and  wilds  of  Scotland 
sheltered  the  great  but  hapless  Montrose. 

Who  that  reads  this  old  but  ever  romantic  tale 
will  not  understand  the  bitterness  that  filled  the 
hero's  breast,  as,  faint  from  his  wounds,  his  rich 
clothes  torn  and  soiled,  his  heart  broken,  he  rides  off 
the  field,  followed  by  his  few  remaining  companions  } 
To  Montrose  that  terrible  word  failure  meant  the 
ruin  of  all  his  hopes  of  glory,  the  loss  of  King 
Charles's  cause,  the  captivity  and  death  of  friends, 
and  his  own  peril ;  for  well  he  knew  the  Covenanters 
would  never  rest  till  he  was  taken  ! 

Silent,  despairing,  almost  aimless,  the  little  party 
had  halted,  after  an  hour's  hard  riding  put  them 
for  the  moment  beyond  the  reach  of  their  enemy. 
A  brief  conference  ends  with  a  mutual  agreement 
that  it  is  best  to  part.  There  is  no  chance  of 
safety  for  Montrose  as  long  as  so  many  keep  to- 
gether. 

The  farewell,  spoken  in  the  gloaming — for  it  was 
about  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening — must  have  been 
indeed  a  sad  one.  Hands  are  clasped  that  would 
never  meet  again.  As  the  great  Montrose  rides 
slowly  off  with  Kinnoul  and   Sinclair  as  his  only 


264  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

companions,  his  friends  feel  that  their  parting  is 
their  last  on  earth. 

After  wandering  about  along  the  river-side  till 
nearly  midnight,  Montrose  threw  off  his  velvet 
cloak,  his  diamond  star,  and  sword.  The  wanderers 
met  a  Highlander  among  the  straths  and  glades  of 
the  lonely  country.  The  rustic  stared  with  amaze- 
ment when  Montrose  proposed  an  exchange  of 
clothes ;  but  he  consented,  and  the  exchange  was 
made,  the  Marquis  going  forward  in  the  guise  of  a 
simple  Highlander. 

He  and  Lord  Kinnoul  wandered  about  all  that 
miserable  night,  till  the  latter  dropped  down  from 
sheer  exhaustion,  and  is  supposed  to  have  perished 
of  hunger,  leaving  only  Major  Sinclair  with  Mon- 
trose. 

Montrose  and  his  remaining  companion  thought 
to  wander  on  towards  Caithness,  and  make  their 
way  to  Dunbeath,  in  which  castle  his  brother  Harry 
Graham  still  maintained  his  ground  at  tlie  head  of  a 
hundred  men.  Had  he  been  able  to  reach  Dunbeath 
in  safety,  he  could  then  have  escaped  by  Orkney 
over  to  France ;  but  he  knew  nothing  of  the  wild 
and  desolate  locality ;  and  while  he  trudged  on, 
hoping  and  believing  that  he  was  nearing  friends,  he 
was  in  reality  getting  more  and  more  into  the  hands 
of  his  enemies. 


The  Voiv  of  Montrose.  265 

Added  to  grief  and  sorrow,  the  gallant  Montrose 
endured,  as  night  drew  on,  all  the  pangs  of  hunger 
and  thirst.  It  was  perilous  to  demand  rest  and 
shelter  at  any  of  the  solitary  huts  along  the  way  ; 
but  as  morning  broke  on  the  second  day,  he  ven- 
tured to  beg  a  poor  Highland  woman  to  give  him  a 
little  milk.  Touched  with  his  miserable  plight,  and 
merely  supposing  the  wounded  man  to  be  some  poor 
fugitive  from  Invercarron,  she  gave  him  some  bread 
and  milk,  the  first  food  (except  wild  berries)  that 
this  once  great  Marquis  had  tasted  for  two  nights 
and  a  day ! 

Renovated  and  grateful,  his  indomitable  courage 
returned.  '  Despair,'  he  mused,  '  is  for  cowards ! 
One  effort  more,  and  I  shall  be  at  Dunbeath  ! ' 

At  last,  after  another  long  day  of  hunger,  in 
which  he  was  fain  to  make  a  sorry  meal  of  his 
leathern  gloves,  Montrose  discovered  that,  instead 
of  being  near  Dunbeath,  his  wanderings  had  been 
merely  in  a  circle.  He  then  determined  to  throw 
himself  upon  the  mercy  of  Neil  Macleod,  Baron  of 
Assynt,  who  had  once  followed  the  royal  banner, 
although  he  was  now  a  staunch  Covenanter. 

Leslie,  however,  was  far  too  wary  to  neglect  the 
chance  of  securing  Montrose's  person.  His  enemies 
had  guessed  his  intention  of  trying  to  reach  the 
coast ;  and  as  soon  as  Colonel  Strachan  had  com- 


266  The  Fieiy  Cross  ;  or, 

niunicatcd  to  Leslie  the  news  of  the  victoiy  at 
Invercarron,  that  wily  leader  had  sent  off  to  the 
Laird  of  Assynt,  and  bid  him  arrest  every  stranger 
in  the  country,  rather  than  that  Montrose  should 
escape. 

The  Baron  of  Assynt  was  only  too  ready  to 
secure  the  large  sum  the  Parliament  offered  for 
Montrose's  head,  and  he  himself  led  an  armed  band 
of  vassals  through  every  wood  and  valley  in  which 
they  fancied  the  Cavaliers  might  be  concealed. 

Other  armed  parties  were  despatched  in  various 
directions,  with  orders  to  seize  and  bring  in  the 
Marquis  to  their  master,  dead  or  alive.  One  of  the 
Laird's  parties  discovered  Montrose  at  last,  just  as 
he  and  his  single  companion  felt  that  they  were 
sinking  of  starvation. 

At  first,  the  Highland  gillies  who  found  Montrose 
scarcely  believed  that  the  half-starved,  ragged,  and 
miserable  object  before  them  was  the  great  and 
glorious  Montrose;  but  all  doubt  was  dispelled  when 
they  led  him  and  his  companion  to  their  chief. 

Montrose's  wan  face  lighted  up  with  a  gleam  of 
hope  when  he  found  that  his  captor  was  Macleod  of 
Assynt.  He  did  not  for  one  moment  believe  that 
his  former  comrade  would  betray  him ;  and  the 
two  Cavaliers  joyfully  hoped  that  they  had  at  last 
found  a  friend  and  shelter. 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  267 

They  were  soon  cruelly  undeceived.  Assynt,  in 
spite  of  the  name  he  bore  and  the  tartan  that 
covered  his  breast,  proved  traitor  in  very  deed.  No 
considerations  of  friendship,  no  remembrances  of 
past  times,  when  they  had  both  followed  the  same 
banner  and  fought  for  the  same  cause,  moved  the 
stern  chief  to  pity. 

'  Kill  me  now,'  pleaded  the  gallant  Montrose, 
*  rather  than  deliver  me  up  into  Leslie's  hands  ! ' 
But  no.  Assynt's  base  soul  longed  for  the  reward, 
and  he  would  listen  to  no  entreaties,  but  hardened 
his  heart  against  a  sight  that  might  well  have  melted 
even  an  enemy's  breast  ;  for  nothing  could  be  more 
piteous  than  to  see  the  courtly  Montrose,  who  had 
so  often  gloriously  led  his  army  to  victory,  reduced 
to  demand  death  from  the  wretched  Macleod,  rather 
than  be  led  a  captive  to  Leslie. 

There  is  a  dreary  tower,  whose  sides  are  washed 
by  a  dark  loch  called  Assynt,  and  Macleod  shut  up 
the  prisoners  in  that  fortress  of  Ardvraich,  till  he 
had  sent  Leslie  word  that  the  prize  was  secured. 

The  memory  of  this  wretch  was  odious  in  the 
Highlands  for  many  generations,  for  hateful  to  the 
Celtic  race  are  treachery  and  inhospitality.  After 
Charles  the  Second's  restoration  in  1674,  Macleod 
was  tried  at  Edinburgh  for  the  part  that  he  took 
on  this  occasion,  and  only  narrowly  escaped  death. 


268  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

It  is  pleasing  to  remember  that  the  money  reward 
he  had  calculated  on  receiving  was  never  his,  and 
that  all  this  wretch  ever  got  (in  spite  of  the  Scottish 
Parliament  voting  him  '  twenty-five  thousand  pounds 
Scots ')  was  '  400  bolls  of  damaged  meal,'  while  his 
name  has  been  as  much  execrated  as  that  of  the 
Campbells  of  Glenlyon  about  the  massacre  of  Glen- 
coe.  Ruin  fell  on  his  race  ;  for  the  Mackenzies, 
Mackays,  and  Macdonnells  of  Glengarry  burst  into 
Assynt  as  soon  as  they  dared,  and  laid  his  land 
desolate  with  fire  and  sword.  But  let  us  not  name 
him  again,  for  he  met  with  his  deserts  ;  and 
treachery,  even  in  this  world,  is  always  and  surely 
punished. 

General  Leslie  lost  no  time  in  sending  to  Ardvraich 
in  answer  to  Assynt's  message.  When  Montrose 
saw  the  Covenanters  arrive,  he  knew  that  the  bitter- 
ness of  death  was  indeed  begun.  He  needed  no 
warning  to  tell  him  that  the  hatred  of  his  enemies 
would  only  be  slacked  when  his  blood  should  have 
flowed  on  the  block. 

Happy  had  he  been  to  have  met  death  then  and 
there  ;  but  the  victim  was  to  be  conveyed  in  triumph 
to  Edinburgh. 

Strachan  had  already  been  rewarded  for  his  ser- 
vices with  money  and  jewels  ;  and  after  despatching 
orders  to  Leslie  to  send  Montrose  at  once  to  Edin- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  269 

burgh,  the  Parh'ament  ordered  a  public  fast  day  as  a 
thanksgiving  for  his  capture. 

With  feelings  of  great  thankfulness  they  de- 
liberated on  the  punishment  that  should  be  his,  as 
well  as  the  manner  in  which  it  should  be  carried  out. 
They  did  not  take  long  to  deliberate.  All  agreed 
that  it  should  be  death,  with  torture  !  Thus  the  fate 
of  Montrose  was  sealed  as  soon  as  he  was  captured. 
He  was  condemned,  untried  and  unheard  in  his  own 
defence. 

The  Committee  appointed  by  Parliament  to 
advise  on  so  weighty  a  matter  was  composed  solely 
of  the  Tvlarquis's  enemies.  Their  advice  was  given 
in  writing,  without  one  voice  being  lifted  up  to  plead 
for  a  fair  and  open  trial.  It  was  determined  that 
Montrose  should  die. 

Holburne  conveyed  his  prisoner  first  of  all  to 
Lord  Sutherland's  castle  of  Skibo.  After  staying 
there  two  nights,  he  was  taken  to  Lord  Seaforth's 
castle  of  Braan  in  Ross-shire. 

Colonel  Strachan  left  Leslie  and  Holburne  in  the 
Highlands,  and  dragged  Montrose  in  triumph  to 
Edinburgh.  No  pity,  no  generosity,  seemed  to  in- 
fluence Strachan  in  his  treatment  of  his  noble 
prisoner. 

The  Covenanters  knew  that  a  halo  of  glory  was 
still   round   the   prisoner's  very  name.      For  years 


2  70  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

Montrose's  exploits  had  rung  in  their  ears  and 
jarred  on  their  feeHngs.  Now  he  was  in  their 
power,  they  determined  to  humble  him  to  the  dust. 
Clad  in  the  mean,  ragged,  and  dirty  garb  in  which 
he  had  been  found,  Montrose  was  compelled  to 
mount  a  poor  little  Highland  pony,  and  in  that 
piteous  guise  Strachan  led  him  through  town  to 
town,  prolonging  the  route,  that  his  triumph  might 
be  all  the  greater. 

The  Presbyterian  clergy  encouraged  their  flocks 
to  pelt  him  with  mud  and  stones,  while  a  herald 
preceded  the  prisoner,  crying,  '  Here  comes  James 
Graham,  traitor  to  his  country!' 

His  long  hair,  unshaven  face,  and  mean  clothing 
were  intended  to  humiliate  him ;  but  Montrose's 
lofty  bearing,  and  the  unshaken  dignity  with  which 
he  bore  his  sufferings,  silenced  many  who  came  to 
revile  the  fallen  hero.  It  was  treason  to  express 
any  sympathy  with  Montrose ;  and  but  for  the 
fear  of  punishment,  the  peasantry,  as  the  cavalcade 
passed  by,  would  fain  have  pitied  him. 

He  was  led  slowly  on.  At  Pitcaple,  a  fine  old 
place  belonging  to  the  Leslies,  the  means  of 
escape  were  offered  him.  The  lady  of  the  house 
was  a  distant  relative  of  the  Grahams.  She  saw 
and  pitied  Montrose.  Watching  her  opportunity, 
she   stole    into    his    room    at   night,    and    showed 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  271 

him  a  spring  in  the  wall,  that  pushed  back  one 
of  the  panels,  leading  to  a  subterranean  passage 
below. 

The  outlet  was  smaller  than  a  narrow  chimney, 
and  Montrose,  while  thanking  his  generous  hostess, 
refused  to  go  through  it ;  telling  her,  with  a  smile 
on  his  lips,  that  'rather  than  be  smothered  in  so 
dark  a  hole,  he  had  better  meet  what  awaited  him 
in  Edinburgh.'  The  lady  sorrowfully  withdrew, 
grieving  that  she  had  not  prevailed  on  her  hapless 
guest  to  attempt  his  escape.  That  room  at  Pitcaple 
is  still  called  *  Montrose's  chamber.' 

As  they  drew  near  Kinnaird,  each  wood  and 
muir  of  Forfarshire  must  have  reminded  Montrose 
of  happier  days. 

It  was  at  the  castle  of  Kinnaird  that  Montrose's 
brief  married  life  had  been  passed.  Magdalene  Car- 
negie, his  fair  young  Countess,  had  died  there,  and 
his  children  were  at  that  very  time  living  at  the 
castle,  under  the  care  of  his  father-in-law,  the 
venerable  Earl  of  Southesk. 

How  little,  in  those  calm  days  of  bygone  years, 
when  hunting,  hawking,  or  golfing,  a  visit  to  some 
neighbour,  or  the  weekly  attendance  at  kirk,  had 
alone  broken  the  monotony  of  life,  had  Montrose 
dreamed  of  this  last  visit  to  his  father-in-law's  home  ! 
Montrose  loved  but  once  in  his  life  ;  and  when  the 


272  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

gentle  Magdalene  died,  leaving  him  a  young  widower 
with  three  children,  he  enshrined  her  memory  in  his 
heart,  an  amulet  against  all  meaner  loves,  and  one 
that  prevented  his  ever  forming  a  second  marriage. 
In  his  own  words — 

Let  no  man  to  more  love  pretend 

Than  he  has  hearts  in  store  ; 
True  love  begun  shall  never  end  : 

Love  one  and  love  no  more  ! ' 

When  Montrose  found  himself  so  near  Lord 
Southesk's,  he  entreated  Strachan  to  let  him  bid 
his  children  farewell.  Even  his  pitiless  jailor  could 
not  say  nay  to  that  request ;  and  the  cavalcade 
halted  at  the  castle,  that  the  touching  farewell 
might  be  taken. 

Montrose  knew  what  fate  awaited  him,  and  knew 
as  he  strained  each  dear  child  to  his  breast  that  it 
was  a  last  embrace ;  yet  he  preserved  an  unbroken 
serenity  of  manner,  determined  that  his  calmness 
should  shame  the  malice  of  his  persecutors.  Thus 
he  bid  them  farewell,  and  asked  a  last  blessing 
from  his  father-in-law,  whose  own  descendants 
were  doomed  to  suffer  for  their  devotion  to  future 
Stuarts ;  for  the  Southesk  fortunes  were  ruined  in 
the  rising  of  1715,  and  the  present  Earl  is  only  a 
younger  branch  of  that  loyal  Carnegie  family.  He 
had  indeed  gone  through  his  greatest  trial.     How, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  273 

as  mounted  again,  and  turning  his  back  for  ever  on 
Kinnaird,  must  his  thoughts  have  dwelt  on  his 
wife's  tomb  in  the  Httle  churchyard  near  the  castle, 
and  the  future  of  his  hapless  children  !  All  he  felt, 
however,  he  jealously  guarded  from  his  jailor's  eyes, 
and  he  was  outwardly  calm  when  the  Covenanters 
next  halted  at  a  place  called  Grange. 

The  owner  of  the  castle  was  a  '  red-hot  Puritan,' 
but  he  had  known  Montrose  in  happier  years ;  and 
as  there  is  a  record  that  the  Lord  of  Grange  had 
given  him  a  hawk,  it  is  probable  that  they  had  once 
enjoyed  good  sport  together.  His  host,  however, 
only  welcomed  Montrose  to  Grange  as  a  captive, 
and  felt  but  little  pity  for  his  forlorn  and  piteous 
state,  for  he  was  in  rags,  and  not  suffered  to  wear 
garments  more  fitting  to  his  station,  nor  to  shave  off 
the  long  beard  which  gave  to  his  countenance  a 
wild  and  miserable  appearance. 

The  wife  of  James  Durham,  his  host,  was  named 
Margaret,  and  was  by  birth  a  Scott  of  Brotherton. 
She  saw  and  pitied  Montrose,  and,  like  the  lady  of 
Pitcaple,  determined  to  try  and  save  him. 

Like  a  wily  woman,  she  knew  that  her  best  chance 
of  doing  so  lay  in  pretending  great  warmth  on  the 
opposite  side.  She  stealthily  noticed  how  Montrose 
was  guarded,  and  then  made  a  great  show  of  noisy 
hospitality,  bidding  her  butler  '  let  the  soldiers  want 


2  74  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

for  no  drink,'  and  vowing  that  in  the  good  Covenant's 
cause  it  '  behoved  her  to  bestir  herself.'  She  did  all 
that  lay  in  her  power  to  circulate  her  husband's  good 
liquor. 

With  great  outward  show  of  kindness  she  plied 
the  guard  with  strong  ale  and  whisky ;  and  the 
Highlanders,  not  being  used  to  such  copious  liba- 
tions, soon  became  *  starke  drunke.' 

Overjoyed  when  she  saw  them  all  asleep  in  the 
hall,  she  went  into  Montrose's  room,  and  persuaded 
him  to  put  on  one  of  her  gowns,  and  disguise  him- 
self as  a  woman.  She  told  him  if  he  trusted  to  her 
guidance  he  would  yet  be  saved.  Just  as  the  lady 
of  Grange  had  guided  the  pretended  female  safely 
through  the  sleeping  guards  to  the  other  door,  a 
soldier  came  in.  The  man  was  less  drunk  than  the 
others.  He  seized  the  dame,  and  in  the  scuffle  that 
ensued  he  recognised  the  features  of  Montrose. 

The  man  v/as  instantly  sobered.  He  gave  a 
prompt  alarm,  and  the  captive  was  reconducted  to 
his  grated  room,  and  more  strictly  guarded  than 
before ;  while  James  Durham  and  all  his  household 
were  made  prisoners,  charged  with  having  aided 
the  Cavalier  to  escape. 

'  Don't  blame  my  husband,'  cried  the  intrepid 
dame  of  Grange.  '  I  planned  it  all,  and  he  knew 
nothing  of  my  scheme.     I  only  wish  I    had   sue- 


Montrose  attempts  to  Escape.— Z*^^*;  274. 
27s 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  277 

ceeded,  and  given  the  Marquis  of  Montrose  his 
freedom.* 

The  next  day  the  Covenanters  and  their  prisoner 
stopped  at  Dundee,  a  town  that  had  little  reason 
to  regard  Montrose  with  favour,  yet  which  on  this 
occasion  did  all  it  could  to  mitigate  his  sufferings. 
Its  burghers,  declaring  it  was  a  shame  to  let  the 
Marquis  wear  the  miserable  rags  in  which  he  ap- 
peared, provided  him  with  garments  more  fitting 
to  his  rank,  and  presented  him  with  a  handsome 
sum  of  money. 

This  generous  conduct  should  have  shamed 
Strachan  and  his  companions,  who  treated  their 
prisoner  as  if  he  were  the  vilest  felon  in  Scotland, 
instead  of  an  unfortunate  general  who  had  lost  all 
through  the  accident  of  fortune  and  a  devoted 
loyalty  to  the  royal  cause. 

The  kindness  of  the  citizens  of  Dundee  was  the 
more  unexpected  by  Montrose,  as  he  knew  that  his 
Redshanks  had  formerly  plundered  the  city.  The 
kindness  he  there  met  with  was  a  ray  of  light  in  his 
melancholy  progress  towards  Edinburgh. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

'  I've  told  thee  how  the  Southrons  fell 
Beneath  the  broad  claymore, 
And  how  we  smote  the  Campbell  clan 
By  Inverlochy's  shore. 
I've  told  thee  how  we  swept  Dundee, 
And  tamed  the  Lindsay's  pride  ; 
But  never  have  I  told  thee  yet 
How  the  great  Marquis  died  ! ' 

— Aytoun. 


HILE  Strachan,  charged  by  the  Parlia- 
ment to  convey  Montrose  to  Edinburgh, 
was,  as  we  have  seen,  executing  his  task 
with  rigid  severity,  Leslie  was  scouring  the  country 
in  search  of  the  fugitive  remnant  of  the  defeated 
army. 

Sir  Harry  Graham,  brother  to  Montrose,  was  in 
Orkney  when  Leslie  invested  the  Castle  of  Dun- 
beath.     The  garrison,  hearing  that  Montrose  had 

without  doubt  been  defeated   and   taken  prisoner, 

278 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  279 

thought  it  useless  to  resist,  and  surrendered  to 
Leslie's  soldiers.  The  garrison,  principally  Dutch- 
men, were  most  of  them  allowed  to  return  home 
unmolested,  while  some  of  them  were  enlisted  in 
Sir  Robert  Murray's  regiment  of  Scots  in  France. 
Sir  Harry  Graham  fled  to  France. 

This  regiment  of  Scots  had  existed  in  France 
since  the  days  of  Louis  the  Ninth,  and  had  always 
been  highly  prized  by  the  French  sovereigns. 
Charles  the  Second  while  in  exile  belonged  to  it, 
as  also  did  the  gallant  George  Gordon  Marquis  of 
Huntly  in  1625,  and  James  the  Second  while  Duke 
of  York.  The  Marquis  of  Huntly,  as  Captain  of 
the  '  Gendarmes  Ecossais,'  had  fought  in  Louis  the 
Thirteenth's  army,  and  greatly  distinguished  him- 
self; so  that,  as  it  was  considered  an  honour  to 
belong  to  the  Scottish  regiment,  the  soldiers  of  the 
garrison  therefore  appear  to  have  been  treated  with 
unwonted  leniency  in  being  sent  into  that  service. 

After  subduing  Dunbeath,  nothing  remained  but 
to  capture  the  venerable  Castle  of  Kirkwall,  which 
Montrose  had  left  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Johnstone.  In  it  were  all  his  papers,  military  stores, 
weapons,  and  the  suits  of  armour  sent  by  the  Queen 
of  Sweden,  but  which  did  not  arrive  soon  enough  to 
be  used  in  Montrose's  sad  and  short  campaign. 

With  the  capture  of   Kirkwall,  which   had   been 


28o  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

built  five  hundred  years  before  by  one  of  the  Counts 
of  Orcades,  and  that  of  Jutland,  both  of  which  had 
been  left  very  insufficiently  garrisoned  by  Montrose, 
Leslie  considered  his  task  completed. 

The  little  frigate  of  sixteen  guns,  sent  by  the 
Swedes,  fell  also  into  their  hands ;  but  the  papers 
were  more  prized  than  anything  else,  as  among 
them  was  a  list  of  gentlemen  favourable  to  Mon- 
trose's enterprise.  These  were  immediately  arrested, 
and  taken  prisoners  by  the  Covenanters,  on  the 
mere  suspicion  of  belonging  to  the  Cavalier  party. 

The  information  Argyle  obtained  through  these 
documents  was  made  use  of  also  against  the  Mar- 
quis, who  was  condemned  before  he  reached  Leith, 
untried  by  the  laws  of  his  country,  and  unheard  in 
his  own  defence. 

Among  the  papers  was  one  from  James  Lord 
Sinclair,  declaring  that,  the  treaty  of  Breda  being  a 
mere  trap  for  the  King,  he  saw  no  means  of  bringing 
about  his  restoration  except  by  the  sword. 

After  ordering  a  solemn  fast  and  thanksgiving 
day,  the  Parliament  appointed  a  Committee  '  to 
advise  the  Estates'  on  the  grave  subject  of  Mon- 
trose's punishment. 

The  Committee  met  on  the  17th  of  May,  1650,  and 
their  deliberations  lasted  a  very  short  time.  The 
men  who  composed  it  were  all  enemies  to  Montrose, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  281 

— Argyle  among  the  number, — and  they  quickly 
sentenced  him  to  an  ignominious  death.  It  was 
thought  advisable  to  beg  them  to  write  the  sentence, 
and  accordingly  they  gave  the  Parliament  a  written 
paper  to  the  following  effect,  namely,  that  as  soon 
as  'the  traitor,  James  Graham,'  should  arrive  out- 
side the  city,  their  advice  was,  '  that  the  Magistrates 
and  common  hangman  should  meet  him  and  tie 
him  bareheaded  upon  a  cart.  Thus  bound,  the 
hangman  should  draw  him  through  the  town,  the 
history  of  his  battles  appended  round  his  neck,  and 
that  he  should  be  hanged  in  view  of  the  whole  popu- 
lace, and  then  beheaded  and  quartered, — his  head 
to  be  placed  on  the  Tolbooth,  and  his  limbs  to  be 
distributed  to  the  various  cities  of  Perth,  Glasgow, 
Aberdeen,  and  Stirling.'  If  he  repented  of  the 
crimes  of  loyalty  and  honour, — so  ran  the  sentence, 
— his  body  was  to  be  buried  in  Greyfriars  ;  but  if  he 
died  without  regretting  his  actions,  it  was  to  share 
the  fate  of  the  remains  of  thieves  and  malefactors, 
and  be  buried  under  the  gibbet. 

It  was  the  eighteenth  of  May,  1650,  that,  after 
crossing  the  Firth  of  Forth,  the  cavalcade  con- 
ducting Montrose  to  his  doom  reached  Leith. 

Suspense  was  over.  The  mind  of  the  Marquis 
was  made  up  to  bravely  meet  his  fate.  The  kind- 
ness shown  him  at  Dundee  enabled  him  to  enter 


282  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

Edinburgh  in  garments  not  altogether  unsuitable  to 
his  rank ;  and  as  he  took  his  place  on  the  rude  cart 
that  met  him  at  the  Watergate,  it  was  with  a  calm- 
ness and  grace  that  his  ignominious  treatment  could 
not  destroy. 

The  fast  had  been  held  three  days  before ;  and 
after  denouncing  him  from  their  pulpits,  the  Presby- 
terian clergymen,  in  their  long  black  cloaks,  Geneva 
bands,  and  pointed  hats,  mingled  with  the  crowd 
and  encouraged  them  to  execrate  and  abuse  the 
victim  as  he  passed  along. 

The  hangman  ordered  Montrose  to  take  off  his 
hat— for  part  of  his  sentence  was  that  he  should 
undergo  his  punishment  uncovered. 

Montrose  hesitated,  on  which  the  hangman 
snatched  it  rudely  from  his  noble  head,  and  then 
placed  him  on  the  cart,  binding  him  firmly  across 
his  arms  and  shoulders,  the  cords  being  safely 
attached  to  holes  made  in  the  rough  wooden  pieces 
of  the  cart  behind  the  chair  on  which  sat  the  victim. 
The  hangman  sat  in  front,  a  single  horse  drawing 
the  vehicle ;  and,  as  if  to  show  that  the  very 
executioner  was  of  higher  rank  than  the  illustrious 
Montrose,  he  carried  a  long  staff  in  his  hand,  was 
bonneted,  and  wore  a  ghastly  livery, 

*  They  brought  him  to  the  Watergate, 
Hard  bound  with  hempen  span, 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  28 


o 


As  though  they  held  a  lion  there, 

And  not  a  fenceless  man. 
They  set  him  high  upon  a  cart, — 

The  hangman  rode  below, — 
They  drew  his  hands  behind  his  back, 

And  bared  his  noble  brow. 
Then  as  a  hound  is  slipped  from  leash, 

They  cheered,  the  common  throng.'  * 

It  was  getting  late  in  that  summer's  day  when 
Montrose,  thus  degraded,  was  led  to  the  Watergate. 
He  was  met  there  by  the  Provost  and  burghers  of 
Edinburgh,  who  read  his  sentence  to  him  before  he 
mounted  the  cart. 

Thousands  of  people  awaited  him  in  the  High 
Street  and  Canongate,  and  every  house  was  crowded 
from  the  top  to  the  bottom  with  a  prejudiced,  angry 
mob,  eager  to  see  The  Graham,  and  how  he  bore 
his  sentence. 

The  cavalcade  nears  the  Watergate.  Every  neck 
is  stretched  out  to  gaze  upon  the  proud  and  haughty 
Montrose. 

The  Magistrates  read  out  his  sentence  to  him. 
As  the  sound  of  the  last  sentence  dies  away,  and 
the  cruel  yell  of  the  mob,  eager  to  sate  their  hatred 
with  a  sight  of  his  sufferings,  rises  in  the  air,  Mon- 
trose, almost  as  calm  and  unmoved  as  if  about  to 
tread  some  courtly  hall,  calmly  says  in  reply : 

'  I  willingly  obey,  but  am  sorry  that  through  me 
*  Aytoun. 


284  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

His  Majesty,  whose  person  I  represent,  should  be  so 
dishonoured  ! ' 

Although  his  words  were  brave,  his  face,  as  he 
entered  the  court  and  submitted  to  his  fate,  was  pale 
and  wan.  Montrose  bore  his  fate  with  outward 
calmness;  but  one  can  guess  the  torture  that  so 
proud  a  man  must  have  endured,  as  he  rides  on, 
unable  to  lift  his  hand  to  his  brow,  his  head  bare, 
and  the  sun  streaming  down  on  his  face  and  figure. 
The  Magistrates  and  burghers  accompanied  the 
procession,  which  was  preceded  by  a  melancholy 
cavalcade  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  bareheaded  and 
on  foot  as  if  they  were  common  thieves  instead  of 
chivalrous  gentlemen,  guilty  only  of  loyalty  and 
fidelity  to  their  sovereign. 

The  clergy  had  especially  enjoined  all  the  mem- 
bers of  their  flocks  to  hiss  and  execrate  '  that  bloody 
and  excommunicate  traitor,  James  Graham  ; '  but 
by  degrees  the  yells  died  away,  and  the  excited 
populace  gazed  with  involuntary  compassion  on 
that  grave,  heart-broken  face,  looking  sadly  down 
from  the  hangman's  cart  upon  the  now  hushed  and 
awe-stricken  multitude.  Does  Montrose  recall  his 
past  triumphs }  and  do  the  loud  shouts  and  curses 
that  first  greet  him  remind  him,  by  contrast,  of  the 
cries  of  joy  that  after  many  a  victory  his  faithful 
Redshanks    had   been   wont   to  greet  their  hero  ? 


The  Vozu  of  Montrose.  285 

Alas  !  they  are  far  away  ;  some  slain  in  battle,  some 
skulking  from  Argyle's  bloodhounds,  as  tliey  track 
each  vale  and  hill  for  *  recusant  men  ' !  Perchance, 
too,  his  father's  heart  remembers  in  that  hour  of 
anguish  those  children  he  will  never  see  again  ;  but 
who,  when  party  prejudice  has  died  away,  and  when 
the  royal  cause  once  more  prospers,  will  live  to  hear 
their  father  named  with  honour  as  Montrose  the 
Cavalier. 

The  street  along  which  the  cavalcade  passed  was 
very  wide  in  parts,  and  every  portion  of  it  was  filled 
with  the  populace.  There  were  many  women  in  the 
crowd,  and  some  of  them  had  been  especially  violent 
against  Montrose.  But  now  their  half-uttered  taunts 
died  away  before  the  sublimity  of  the  martyr's 
bearing,  and  their  hearts,  quickly  stirred,  were 
moved  to  feelings  of  deep  compassion ;  and  such 
as  dared  murmured  blessings  and  prayers  instead 
of  curses. 

A  deep  silence  fell  on  the  crowd  as  the  procession 
advanced,  and  the  Presbyterian  clergy  marked  with 
consternation  that  their  flocks  were  '  backsliding  * 
and  sympathizing  with  that  '  malignant  Montrose.' 

The  city  guard  was  replaced  as  it  neared  the 
Canongate  by  a  body  of  sixty  soldiers,  with  three 
corporals,  sergeants,  and  officers,  belonging  to 
*  Sawers'   musqueteers.'      These    armed    men    sur- 


286  The  Fia-y  Cross;  or, 

rounded  the  car,  while  their  commander  rode  at 
their  head. 

At  this  period  the  infantry  of  an  army  was  chiefly 
composed  of  pikemen  and  *  musqueteers.'  The  pike- 
man  carried  a  formidable  weapon  eighteen  feet  long, 
but  the  musqueteer  bore  his  piece  on  his  shoulder, 
holding  his  '  musket  rest '  in  the  same  hand. 

The  officer  who  commanded  the  soldiers  on  the 
occasion  of  Montrose's  entrance  into  Edinburgh, 
was  a  grim-featured,  large-nosed,  repulsive-looking 
man,  who  pretended  to  be  devotedly  attached  to  the 
Covenant,  but  who  at  heart  was  indifferent  alike  to 
all  religions. 

His  real  name  was  Thomas  Weir  of  Kirktoune, 
Lanarkshire;  but  he  was  best  known  as  'the  Wizard 
of  the  North,'  for  the  common  people  believed  him 
to  be  a  sorcerer.  He  was  burned  at  the  stake  in 
1670  for  sorcery  and  other  crimes.  As  major  of  the 
military  in  Edinburgh,  he  was  selected  to  escort 
Montrose  along  a  portion  of  the  route.  Weir's  grim 
figure,  enveloped  in  a  black  cloak,  added  to  the 
ghastly  nature  of  the  sight,  and  even  the  mothers 
and  widows  of  some  who  had  fallen  in  the  ranks  of 
Montrose's  foes  could  not  but  shed  tears  at  the 
piteous  spectacle  of  the  great  hero's  degradation. 
His  silent  dignity  struck  them  forcibly.  A  low 
murmur    of    sympathy    broke    forth,    but    it    was 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  287 

instantly  quelled  by  the  shouts  of  the  brutal 
soldiery. 

One  heart  resolutely  excluded  the  sentiment  of 
pity  from  its  owner's  breast. 

Argyle's  son,  Lord  Lome,  had  just  married  the 
Lady  Mary  Stuart,  Lord  Moray's  daughter.  The 
bride's  father  lived  in  the  Canongate ;  and,  with 
fiendish  glee  and  unexampled  bad  taste,  Argyle  and 
the  newly-wedded  pair,  with  a  gay  party  of  friends, 
had  taken  their  places  on  the  broad  balcony  of  this 
mansion,  overlooking  the  street.  Argyle,  who,  as  a 
Cavalier  historian  asserts,  had  never  dared  to  face 
Montrose  sword  in  his  hand,  now  looked  exultingly 
down  on  his  victim,  bound  hand  and  foot,  pinioned 
in  the  hangman's  cart ! 

Whether  by  design  or  accident,  the  cart  stopped 
for  a  moment  beneath  Lord  Moray's  balcony. 

As  the  horse  stopped,  a  woman's  coarse,  unfeeling 
laughter  broke  upon  the  awe-stricken  stillness  of 
the  crowd.  The  people,  gathered  in  such  numbers 
to  see  Montrose,  had  been  prepared  to  hoot  at  and 
hiss  him,  but  they  had  respected  the  sight  of  that 
'  pale  wan  face.'  It  was  one  infamous  woman  only 
— ^Jean  Gordon,  Countess  of  Haddington — who  did 
not  hesitate  to  insult  the  noble  prisoner.  She 
stepped  forward  and  spat  in  his  face !  Even  Argyle 
seemed  to  shrink  back  as  he  witnessed  this  atro- 


288  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

city,  and  a  voice  was  heard  among  the  crowd 
crying — 

*  She  ought  to  sit  upon  the  cart  for  her  own 
wickedness  ! ' 

This  unwomanly  act  was,  strange  to  say,  the  act 
of  the  sister  of  that  brave  and  gallant  Huntly,  who 
five  years  before  had  fallen  at  the  battle  of  Alford, 
fighting  by  the  side  of  the  Marquis. 

Even  then  the  Marquis  remained  unmoved  and 
calm.  His  dignified  demeanour  put  to  shame  the 
unfeeling  conduct  of  Argyle's  niece  and  her  party, 
who  laughed  and  jested  while  their  fallen  enemy 
passed  the  balcony.  To  quote  again  the  beautiful 
poem  of  one  who  has  sung  Montrose's  praises  in 
language  that  will  live  as  long  as  the  hero's  fame, 
the  procession  went  along — 

*  But  onwards — always  onwards. 

In  silence  and  in  gloom, — 
The  dreary  pageant  laboured 

Till  it  reached  the  house  of  doom. 
Then  first  a  woman's  voice  was  heard, 

In  jeer  and  laughter  loud, 
And  an  angry  cry  and  a  hiss  arose 

From  the  heart  of  the  tossing  crowd. 
Then  as  the  Graeme  looked  upwards, 

He  saw  the  ugly  smile 
Of  him  who  sold  his  king  for  gold, — 

The  master  fiend  Argyle  ! ' 

The  distance  from  the  Watergate  to  the  Tolbooth 
was  only  a  mile,  but  so  slowly  did  the  cart  proceed 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  289 

that  it  actually  took  three  hours  to  convey  Montrose 
to  his  prison,  and  it  was  close  upon  seven  o'clock 
when  they  reached  the  gloomy  fortress. 

Weary,  indeed,  must  Montrose  have  been ;  but 
even  then  his  courtly  manner  did  not  desert  him. 

He  thanked  the  executioner  for  'driving  the  cart 
so  well,'  and  for  his  trouble  gave  him  a  handsome 
vail  of  gold. 

He  was  unbound,  taken  from  his  ignominious 
seat,  and  led  into  the  Tolbooth,  where  he  was 
handed  over  to  the  safe  custody  of  Colonel  Wallace 
the  governor. 

After  so  agitating  a  day,  it  would  have  seemed 
but  common  humanity  to  leave  Montrose  to  repose 
in  his  comfortless  chamber ;  but  the  Parliament 
were  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  compass  his  destruc- 
tion, or  to  wait  even  a  day  longer  before  he  was 
examined.  The  day  of  his  entry  was  Saturday,  and 
Sunday  intervening,  the  Covenanters  determined 
not  to  wait  till  the  Monday. 

Parliament  met,  and  immediately  formed  a  com- 
mittee, charged  to  see  and  examine  Montrose. 

He  declined  to  see  them,  but  they  would  take  no 
denial,  and  insisted  on  his  presence. 

Montrose  replied  to  their  questions,  that  before 
he  answered  them  he  must  be  satisfied  that  they 
were  acting  for  his  royal  master  the  King.     In  vain 


290  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

the  Commissioners  pressed  him  to  answer.  He  pre- 
served a  dignified  silence. 

Finding  him  thus  resolute,  the  Committee  went 
back  to  the  Parliament,  who  sent  them  back  to  Mon- 
trose to  say  that  '  they  and  the  King  were  agreed,' 
but  that  they  would  leave  him  in  peace  till  Monday. 

In  fact,  Parliament  had  determined  to  get  all  the 
information  they  could  from  Montrose  about  the 
King's  party ;  and  knowing  the  man,  thought  that 
he  would  be  more  inclined  to  disclose  facts  if  he 
knew  that,  since  his  defeat,  Charles  the  Second  had 
concluded  a  treaty  with  them,  and  recognised  them 
as  a  properly  constituted  Parliament. 

It  was  very  late  when  the  deputies  brought  this 
information  back  to  the  Marquis,  who,  when  told 
that  they  would  leave  him  alone  till  Monday,  said 
that  he  was  glad  of  it,  as  he  was  very  weary  with 
his  long  journey,  and  with  the  somewhat  tedious 
compliment  they  had  that  day  paid  him. 

Next  day  being  Sunday,  the  Presbyterian  clergy 
rebuked  their  flocks  for  *  their  profane  tenderness  in 
not  denouncing  the  Graham '  as  he  passed  along 
the  streets  ;  and  some  even  went  so  far  as  to  regret 
that  the  people  had  not  reviled  and  stoned  him. 
As  the  Church  Courts  in  those  days  enjoined  every 
parishioner  to  be  present  'at  each  diet  of  worship,' 
the  Presbyterians  had  large  congregations  as  they 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  2  9  [ 

expatiated    on   the   enormous   wickedness    of    not 
hissing  'the  Graham.' 

When  kirk  was  over,  and  the  Covenanters  had 
ended  their  long  discourses,  several  of  their  leaders 
went  to  the  Tolbooth  to  taunt  Montrose,  and  urged 
him  to  confess.  His  prison  doors  were  guarded  by- 
Major  Weir,  who  made  Montrose's  captivity  none 
the  less  irksome  by  smoking  tobacco,  the  scent  of 
which  the  Marquis  was  known  to  detest.  Weir  also 
constantly  reviled  him  with  such  epithets  as  'dog, 
atheist,  and  murderer ! '  None  of  his  friends  were 
allowed  admittance  to  his  cell ;  while  weary  and  sad, 
he  longed  to  repose,  but  patiently  bore  the  visits 
paid  him  by  the  Presbyterian  clergy  ;  merely  saying 
when  they  exhorted  him  to  confession  and  re- 
proached him  for  his  crimes,  that  he  was  far  from 
being  '  affronted '  at  the  treatment  that  he  had  re- 
ceived. 

'They  were  mistaken,*  said  Montrose,  smiling. 
*  He  thought  it  the  most  honourable  journey  he  had 
ever  taken, — God  having  supported  him  all  the 
way,  enabling  him  to  bear  the  reproaches  of  men, 
by  recalling  to  his  mind  that  he  then  suffered  for 
the  King's  sacred  cause.* 

There  was  no  insult  that  his  tormentors  did  not 
heap  on  him  in  reply.  They  addressed  him  as 
'James  Graham  :'  and  one  bigoted  clergyman  called 


292 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


him  *  a  faggot  of  hell,'  and  said  '  he  already  saw 
him  burning !' 

Malignity,  however,  did  not  alter  our  hero's  firm 
and  dignified  bearing.  He  bore  all  gently,  till  at 
nightfall  he  was  left  alone  to  get  what  repose  he 
could  before  the  break  of  day. 

When  summoned  early  next  morning  to  appear 
before  Parliament,  he  attired  himself  in  a  splendid 
suit  of  new  clothes,  that  he  had  purposely  ordered 
to  be  made,  and  probably  purchased  with  the  money 
given  him  by  the  burghers  of  Dundee. 

First,  he  wore  a  scarlet  rochet  or  coat,  trimmed 
with  silver  ribbons,  richly  lined  with  crimson,  and 
reaching  to  his  knees.  Under  this  gay  coat  he 
wore  black  and  richly  laced  under-clothes,  carnation 
coloured  silk  stockings,  handsome  garters,  roses  in 
his  shoes,  and  a  large  beaver  hat  in  his  hand.  The 
gay  ribbons  that  formed  the  tie  of  the  hatband, 
garter,  or  shoe,  were  called  '  roses '  in  those  times, 
and  were  evidently  worn  large,  as  Ben  Jonson  says — 

'  My  heart  was  at  my  mouth 
Till  I  had  viewed  his  shoes  well ;  for  those  roses 
Were  big  enough  to  hide  a  cloven  foot. ' 

His  shirt  was  trimmed  with  the  finest  lace. 
Thus  attired,  he  walked  with  modest  dignity  into 
the  Parliament  House,  uncovering  as  he  bowed  his 
head  to  the  members  in   recognition  of  an  autho- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  293 

rity  sanctioned  by  his  sovereign.  He  showed  no 
signs  of  fear  ;  but  his  face  looked  very  pale  and  sad. 
As  he  gazed  around  and  saw  an  assemblage  of  so 
many  of  his  enemies,  he  sighed,  and  then  resumed 
his  calm  demeanour. 

There  were  several  noblemen  present ;  among 
them  the  Lord  High  Chancellor,  the  President  of 
the  Estates,  Argyle,  the  Earls  of  Eglinton,  Rox- 
burghe,  Buccleuch,  Balcarres,  Tweeddale,  and  nume- 
rous others,  both  titled  and  untitled,  belonging  to 
the  highest  families  in  Scotland. 

The  proceedings  began  by  the  Chancellor  (the 
Earl  of  Loudon),  a  man  of  notorious  evil  character, 
rising  and  delivering  a  long  speech,  in  which  he 
referred  to  Montrose's  rebellions,  and  to  his  deser- 
tion of  the  Covenant,  and  all  his  (so-called)  crimes 
against  the  State.  The  Chancellor  used  as  much 
invective  and  personal  abuse  as  possible  ;  and  Mon- 
trose listened  calmly  to  every  word,  though  his 
eyes  roved  from  side  to  side,  as  if  in  search  of 
some  kind  face  to  cheer  and  pity  him.  When  the 
Chancellor's  long  speech  was  over,  JMontrose  rose  to 
reply. 

'  If  I  appear  before  you  uncovered,  it  is  because 
my  sovereign  has  recognised  you.  I  have  always 
tried  to  behave  like  a  good  Christian  and  a  loyal 
subject.     I  entered  into  the  first  Covenant  and  kept 


294  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

it  faithfully,  until  I  found  that  some,  under  the  pre- 
tence of  religion,  used  it  for  a  cloak  of  their  own 
ambitious  designs. 

*  I  never  promised  obedience  to  the  second  Cove- 
nant, and  am  in  no  way  bound  to  respect  it.  I  had 
the  royal  warrant  for  my  wars  ;  and  though  several 
acts  of  cruelty  were  committed  by  my  soldiery,  I 
always  punished  such  outrages  with  severity. 

*  I  have  never  taken  the  blood  of  a  prisoner,  even 
in  retaliation  for  the  slaughter  of  my  soldiers  and 
friends ;  and  in  battle  I  have  saved  the  lives  of 
thousands. 

*I  landed  in  Orkney  at  the  express  command  of 
Charles  the  Second,  whom  you  yourselves  pro- 
claimed as  King,  and  with  whom  you  are  now  in 
treaty.  I  therefore  desire  to  be  treated  by  you  as  a 
Christian  man,  to  whom  many  among  you  are  in- 
debted for  life  and  property,  when,  by  the  fortune 
of  war,  both  were  at  my  mercy.  Act  by  me,  my 
lords,  according  to  the  laws  of  nature  and  of  nations, 
but  chiefly  by  those  of  our  native  Scotland  ;  judging 
as  one  day  you  shall  all  be  judged,  when  standing 
at  the  throne  of  heaven  !' 

Montrose  delivered  this  speech  with  calm  and 
manly  fortitude ;  and  even  those  most  prejudiced 
against  him  could  not  help  admiring  his  dignity. 
He  had  been  judged  beforehand,  however  ;  and  his 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  295 

speech   and    his    hearers'    sympathy    availed    him 
nothing. 

The  Chancellor  alone  heard  him  immoved.  When 
Montrose  had  finished,  he  said  that  he  had  proved 
'  his  acts  of  hostility,  and  that  he  was  an  infamous, 
perjured,  treacherous  person,  worse  than  any  this 
land  had  ever  before  brought  forth  ;  the  most  in- 
human butcher  and  murderer  of  his  nation,  and  a 
sworn  enemy  to  the  Covenant  and  peace  of  his 
country ;  one  whose  boundless  pride  and  ambition, 
after  ruining  the  father,  had  done  all  that  he  could 
to  destroy  the  son  !' 

When  Montrose  would  have  again  stood  up  to 
reply  to  these  undeserved  insults,  Loudon  bid  him 
'  to  hold  his  tongue,'  and  to  kneel  while  his  sentence 
was  pronounced. 

He  complied,  merely  saying  that  he  knelt  out  of 
respect  to  the  King,  who  had  acknowledged  their 
authority,  but  not  from  '  any  meanness  of  spirit,  or 
disposition  to  fawn  to  them  !' 

In  that  position,  he  calmly  listened  while  one  of 
his  most  inveterate  enemies.  Sir  Archibald  Johnston 
of  Warriston,  clerk  register,  read  his  sentence.  He" 
was  to  be  hanged  on  a  gibbet  at  the  Cross  of  Edin- 
burgh. His  '  declaration  '  was  to  be  hung  round  his 
neck  by  a  rope ;  and  after  his  body  had  been  sus- 
pended three  hours,  it  was  to  be  cut  down  by  the 


296  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or, 

hangman,  decapitated,  and  then  to  have  his  hands 
and  legs  cut  off;  his  head  to  be  affixed  to  an  iron 
pole,  and  stuck  up  over  the  western  gable  of  the 
Tolbooth,  one  hand  '  to  be  set  up '  at  Perth,  one  at 
Stirling,  a  leg  and  foot  at  Aberdeen,  and  one  at 
Glasgow. 

Montrose  drew  himself  proudly  up  when  he  had 
heard  the  whole  of  his  sentence,  and  cried  out  '  that 
he  took  it  for  a  greater  honour  to  have  his  head 
stand  on  the  prison  gate  for  this  quarrel,  than  were 
his  portrait  hung  up  in  the  King's  own  chamber ; ' 
and,  added  he,  with  a  fire  in  his  eye  that  all  the 
insults  heaped  on  him  had  failed  to  quench,  '  I 
only  wish — for  fear  my  loyalty  should  be  forgotten 
— I  had  enough  limbs  to  be  distributed  in  every  city 
in  Christendom,  as  records  of  my  loyalty  to  my  king 
and  love  to  my  country  !' 

It  was  an  old  custom  in  Scotland,  that  the  execu- 
tioner should  repeat  a  prisoner's  doom,  and  it  was 
not  part  of  the  programme  that  a  single  iota  of 
degradation  should  be  omitted  from  Montrose's 
punishment. 

When  the  grim  executioner  had  done  his  duty, 
Montrose  was  reconducted  to  the  Tolbooth.  He 
spent  his  last  Jiight  on  earth  in  meditation  and 
prayer,  heedless  of  the  taunts  and  jibes  of  his  brutal 
jailor,  Major  Weir. 


The  Vo7x)  of  Montrose.  297 

He  was  not  allowed  to  see  a  single  friend ;  yet, 
throughout  that  night,  he  was  frequently  visited  by 
Presbyterian  clergymen,  whose  vanity  perhaps  per- 
suaded them  that  their  eloquence  might  yet  induce 
the  Marquis  to  repent ! 

Montrose,  while  deprecating  their  intrusive  visits 
as  hindrances  to  his  prayers  and  meditations,  yet 
received  them  gently.  At  last,  however,  his  patience 
gave  way. 

•Why,'  he  cried,  'do  you  not  leave  the  last  hours 
of  an  unfortunate  man  in  peace?  Will  nothing 
satisfy  you  but  tormenting  me  .■'' 

'Nothing!'  said  the  bigot  who  was  preaching  at 
him — 'for  I  know  no  other  method  of  humbling 
your  pride,  and  turning  you  to  God.' 

'  By  a  warrant  from  the  Kirk  we  stayed  with  him 
a  while  about  his  soul's  condition,'  wrote  one  of  his 
persecutors  ;  '  but  we  found  him  continuing  in  his 
old  pride,  and  taking  very  ill  what  was  spoken  to 
him,  saying,  "  I  pray  you,  gentlemen,  let  me  die  in 
peace."  It  was  answered,  that  he  might  die  in  peace, 
being  reconciled  to  the  Lord  and  to  His  Kirk.' 

Finding  they  made  little  or  no  impression,  the 
Presbyterian  ministers  reported  their  ill  success  to 
the  Parliament,  and  requested  leave  to  be  present 
at  his  execution,  'in  case,  at  the  last  moment,  that 
he  relented.' 


298 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


These  fanatics  averred  that  his  soul  was  in  peril, 
should  he  die  while  still  excommunicated  by  the 
Kirk. 

Pressed  by  the  clergy  and  reviled  by  his  jailor, 
the  constancy  of  Montrose  never  once  forsook  him. 
The  high-mindedness  with  which  this  great  man 
met  his  terrible  doom,  cannot  be  better  expressed 
than  in  his  own  words,  written  with  the  diamond 
of  his  ring  on  the  window-pane  of  his  prison,  during 
that  last  sad  night.  Montrose  had  cultivated  in 
happier  hours  and  times  his  gift  of  poetry,  and 
the  religious  feeling  breathed  in  the  following  lines 
did  not  spring  only  from  his  trouble  in  his  last 
hours : — 


'  Let  them  bestow  on  every  airt  a  limb, 
Then  open  all  my  veins,  that  I  may  wf^'vca. 
To  Thee,  my  Maker,  in  that  crimson  lake  ; 
Then  place  my  parboiled  head  upon  a  stake  ; 
Scatter  my  ashes,  throw  them  in  the  air ; 
Lord,  since  Thou  know'st  where  all  these  atoms  are, 
I'm  hopeful  Thou'lt  recover  once  my  dust, 
And  confident  Thou'lt  raise  me  with  the  just.' 

Early  next  morning,  when  he  had  had  some  brief 
rest,  Montrose  was  astonished  at  hearing,  outside  the 
Tolbooth  walls,  a  great  blowing  of  trumpets  and 
beating  of  drums.     He  inquired  the  reason. 

Major  Weir  replied  that  Parliament  had  deemed 
it  safer  to  call  the  soldiers  out  to  guard  the  ap- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  299 

proaches  to  the  scaffold,  for  fear  that  his  'mahgnant* 
friends  might  attempt  to  rescue  him  even  at  the 
eleventh  hour. 

'  Indeed,'  said  Montrose,  smiling.  '  Is  it  possible 
that  I,  who  am  bound  for  slaughter,  am  still  so  for- 
midable to  all  these  good  folks!  I  shall  be  still  more 
terrible  to  them,  then,  when  I  am  dead,  I  suppose.' 

The  Parliament  need  have  feared  no  rescue. 
Though  the  Cavalier  party  was  overwhelmed  with 
grief  at  the  defeat  of  Invercarron,  they  were  power- 
less to  avert  Montrose's  execution.  The  Presby- 
terian party  was  strong  and  vindictive ;  and  even 
those  who  deplored  the  gross  injustice  of  putting 
Montrose  to  death  without  a  fair  trial,  did  not  dare 
to  say  so  loudly. 

Montrose's  friend,  Cardinal  de  Retz,  heard 
of  what  was  about  to  take  place  from  a  Mon- 
sieur de  Groymond,  an  accredited  minister  to  the 
Parliament  from  Louis  XIV.,  and  wrote  a  strong 
letter  to  the  '  Parliament  and  Estates  of  Scotland, 
begging  that  they  would  release  Montrose,  and  not 
suffer  him  to  be  insulted.'  But  when  the  missive 
was  Avrittcn,  the  fatal  deed  had  already  been  per- 
petrated, for  the  letter  was  dated  the  loth  of  June 
1650,  and  Montrose  was  executed  on  the  21st  of 
May  in  that  same  year. 

Montrose's  friends,  though  not  permitted  to  see 


300  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

and  take  leave  of  him,  had  supplied  him  with  money 
to  enable  him  to  appear  richly  clad  on  the  day  of 
his  execution. 

He  took  the  greatest  pains  with  his  appearance 
while  dressing  himself  for  his  execution,  although 
his  preparations  were  conducted  before  a  knot  of 
Covenanting  Puritans,  still  persecuting  him  with 
their  homilies.  Among  these  '  dour  carles '  was  the 
man  who  had  read  his  sentence  the  preceding 
day. 

It  is  said  that  this  man.  Sir  Archibald  Johnston, 
had  advised  Argyle  on  the  details  of  the  sentence, 
and  had  negatived  milder  counsels  when  his  punish- 
ment had  been  discussed  in  Parliament.  No  insult 
was  beneath  their  malice.  Montrose  wore  his  long 
locks  in  the  Cavalier  fashion;  and  seeing  him  engaged 
in  carefully  preparing  them,  Sir  Archibald  tauntingly 
inquired  if  '  such  an  occupation  befitted  so  solemn 
an  hour ! ' 

'  As  long  as  my  head  is  my  oWn,'  replied  the 
Marquis,  '  I  will  dress  it  as  I  please ;  to-morrow, 
when  it  is  }'ours,  you  may  dress  it  as  you  please  ! ' 

Nothing  could  surpass  the  splendid  appearance  of 
the  Marquis  on  that  memorable  day.  He  looked  as 
if  ready  to  visit  some  festive  hall ;  as  calm  as  if 
about  to  tread  a  measure  with  some  courtly  beauty. 
His  mien  was  heroic,  and  his  bright  piercing  eyes 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  301 , 

■were  lighted  up  with  undaunted  courage.  His 
whole  appearance  was  so  lofty  and  magnificent,  that 
as  he  stepped  out  to  once  more  ascend  the  miserable 
cart,  an  involuntary  murmur  of  admiration  broke 
out  among  the  crowd. 

He  had  breakfasted  off  a  piece  of  bread  dipped 
in  ale  ;  and  when  his  jailor  told  him  the  dread  hour 
was  come,  he  drew  on  his  hands  a  pair  of  delicate 
white  gloves,  throwing  over  his  rich  scarlet  coat  a 
most  splendid  cloak,  embroidered  with  gold  and 
silver  lace.  His  hat,  as  richly  decked  as  his  cloak, 
he  carried  in  his  hand. 

'So  grand,'  wrote  his  chaplain  Wishart,  Montrose's 
faithful  historian,  '  was  his  air,  so  much  bravery, 
majesty,  and  gravity  appeared  in  his  countenance, 
that  the  whole  city  was  shocked  at  the  cruelty 
which  was  designed  him,  and  even  his  enemies  were 
obliged  to  confess  that  he  was  a  man  of  the  most 
lofty  and  elevated  soul,  and  the  most  unshaken 
constancy  and  courage  that  his  age  had  pro- 
duced.' 

Even  the  indignity  of  ascending  for  the  second 
time  the  hangman's  cart  fell  powerless  on  Montrose; 
for  as  he  ascended  the  scaffold,  he  said  to  a  person 
standing  by,  '  You  see  how  I  am  honoured  !  yet 
after  all  I  never  in  my  life  felt  more  delight  in  riding 
in  a  coach  than  I  have  in  that  poor  cart,' 


302  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

All  Edinburgh  had  come  out  to  see  the  great 
Marquis  die. 


*  And  young  and  old,  and  rich  and  poor, 
Came  forth  to  see  him  die  ! ' 


A  great  multitude  had  for  hours  been  awaiting 
him.  Long  before  he  had  left  the  ^eart  of  Mid- 
lothian the  whole  space  around  the  gibbet  was 
crammed  with  men,  women,  and  children,  all  come 
to  witness  a  great  hero's  last  moments. 

His  demeanour  would  have  shamed  a  Roman 
hero — it  was  so  calm,  so  lofty.  His  rich  dress, 
carefully  adjusted,  set  off  the  beauty  and  grace  of 
his  handsome  person.  Even  a  brave  man  might 
have  shrunk  back  in  terror  at  sight  of  that  ghastly 
gibbet.  The  noose  dangled  down,  for  his  enemies 
were  relentless,  and  he  was  to  be  hanged  instead  of 
being  beheaded, — decapitation  in  those  days  being 
the  nobleman's  privilege. 

The  scaffold  was  nearly  level  with  the  spectators, 
and  the  gibbet  was  erected  in  its  centre.  At  the 
lower  end  of  the  scaffold  stood  a  knot  of  Presby- 
terian clergy,  still  bent  on  tormenting  their  victim. 
In  another  part  were  the  Magistrates,  bound  by  the 
duties  of  their  office  to  see  the  sentence  carried  into 
effect. 

Montrose  spoke  a  few  w^ords  to  the  latter,  but 


The  Vow  of  Mo7itrose.  303 

never  even  glanced  in  the  direction  of  the  clergy- 
men, and  then  prepared  to  ascend  the  gibbet. 

*  He  would  not  deign  them  word  or  sign, 
But  alone  he  bent  the  knee, 
And  veiled  his  face  for  Christ's  dear  sake 
Beneath  the  gallows  tree  ! ' 

The  buff-coated  soldiers  formed  a  compact  guard 
round  the  scaffold,  beyond  which  a  great  sea  of 
faces  surged  ;  every  eye  riveted  on  the  graceful 
figure  of  the  chief  actor  in  the  scene,  the  great  and 
good  Montrose.  A  little  apart  stood  another  figure, 
the  executioner,  with  a  long  staff,  the  insignia  of 
his  terrible  ofiice,  in  his  hand.  Every  prospect  or 
chance  of  rescue  was  provided  for ;  while  on  a 
bench  near  the  ladder  were  a  number  of  knives  and 
axes  to  dismember  the  body  after  death. 

The  Marquis  calmly  glanced  at  all  these  dread 
preparations ;  but  though  he  had  refused  the  mini- 
strations of  the  Presbyterian  clergy,  he  prayed 
fervently,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  as  he 
stood  beneath  the  gibbet. 

He  had  wished  to  address  the  populace,  but  that 
privilege  was  strictly  forbidden.  A  boy,  said  to 
have  been  purposely  placed  there  to  record  his  last 
words,  took  down  in  cipher  the  sentences  he  ad- 
dressed to  those  about  him.  His  dying  address 
has  been  thus  handed  down  to  posterity. 


304  The  Fiery  Cross ;  or^ 

'  I  would  be  very  sorry,'  he  said,  *  if  any  one  good 
Christian  should  be  scandalized  by  my  death.  Doth 
not  sometimes  a  just  man  perish  in  his  righteous- 
ness, and  a  wicked  man  prosper  in  his  malice ! 

'  They  that  know  me  should  not  yndemn  me  for 
it,  for  many  greater  than  me  have  been  dealt  with 
as  hardly.  Yet,  however  I  may  consider  my  fate 
hard  as  inflicted  by  man,  I  acknowledge  it  to  be 
just  as  coming  directly  from  God.  I  therefore 
blame  no  one  for  it,  nor  complain  of  any  one's 
judgment.  I  take  it  from  the  hand  of  God,  whose 
instruments  they  are,  and  forgive  them  for  it ;  may 
God  also  forgive  them.    ^ 

*  To  exonerate  myself  from  me  scandal  with 
which  many  good  people  load  me,  I  maintain  that 
all  I  did  originated  out  of  loyalty  to  the  King. 

*I  have  not  sinned  against  man,  but  against  God; 
and  with  Him  there  is  mercy,  and  this  is  my  ground 
of  hope  in  drawing  near  to  Him. 

'  I  pray  God  that  there  be  no  further  judgments  on 
this  land.  As  for  that  which  the  Lord's  people  urge 
against  me,  namely,  that  I  am  excommunicated  by 
the  Church,  I  can  only  say,  it  is  not  my  fault,  as 
the  sentence  was  incurred  from  my  zeal  in  the 
King's  service.  Yet  I  am  sorry  that  they  excom- 
municated me;  and  if  I  could  be  relaxed' without 
infringing  the  laws  of  God,  or  my  allegiance  to  the 


yf- 


The  Vow  of  Monti'ose.  305 

King,  I  would  be  very  happy.  If  not,  I  must 
appeal  to  God,  who  will  be  a  less  partial  judge.  It 
is  said  that  I  have  blamed  the  King.  God  forbid  ! 
For  the  late  King  lived  a  saint  and  died  a  martyr  ! 
May  my  end  be  like  his ;  for  if  ever  I  could  wish  my 
soul  in  another  man's  stead,  it  should  be  in  his.  As 
for  his  present  IVTajesty,  his  commands  to  me  were 
very  just,  and  he  will  carry  out  all  that  he  engages 
to  do.  Do  not  mistake  my  behaviour  for  obstinacy. 
I  can  only  carry  out  the  dictates  of  my  own  con- 
science, according  to  the  workings  of  God's  Spirit. 
I  desire  not  to  be  presumptuous,  but  it  is  God  who 
supports  me  under  the  terrors  of  death. 

*  I  have  no  more  to  say,  but  to  crave  your  charity 
and  prayers.  I  pray  for  all.  I  leave  my  soul  to 
God,  my  service  to  my  prince,  my  goodwill  to 
my  friends.  I  have  said  all  this  to  discharge  my 
conscience,  and  the  rest  I  leave  to  the  mercy  of 
God.' 

The  Presbyterian  ministers  begged  him  again  to 
reconsider  his  determinatior>-,  and  to  make  his  peace 
with  the  Kirk,  by  avowing  his  past  errors. 

'  I  have  already,'  replied  Montrose,  '  poured  out 
my  soul  before  the  Lord,  who  knows  my  heart,  and 
into  whose  hands  I  nowZcommerid  my  spirit.  He 
has  given  me  peace  through  Jesus  Christ  my  Re- 
deemer ;  and  therefore  if  you  will  not  join  me  in 


o 


06  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


prayer,  my  repeating  all  that  I  have  said  before  will 
be  scandalous.' 

The  Presbyterian  ministers  told  him  that  as  long 
as  he  remained  excommunicated  by  the  Kirk,  they 
could  not  pra}^  with  him. 

He  then,  after  again  praying,  began  to  prepare 
for  death. 

He  fee'd  the  executioner  handsomely  with  gold, 
after  inquiring  how  long  he  was  to  hang  there. 

'  Three  hours  ! '  replied  the  Calcraft  of  the  day, 
bursting  into  tears.  Montrose  earnestly  begged  to 
be  permitted  to  wear  his  hat  and  cloak,  but  even 
that  favour  was  not  allowed,  and  he  went  bare- 
headed to  his  doom.  A  copy  of  his  memoirs  by  his 
chaplain,  and  another  of  his  declarations  as  Captain- 
General  of  Scotland,  was  hung  round  his  neck,  as 
decreed  by  the  Estates  ;  but  he  bore  it  cheerfully, 
saying — 

*  Though  it  had  pleased  the  King  to  make  me  a 
Knight  of  the  most  Honourable  Order  of  the  Garter, 
yet  do  I  not  think  myself  more  honoured  by  that 
than  by  the  contents  of  this  book,  the  true  testi- 
mony of  m.y  loyalty  ! ' 

His  calmness  almost  gave  way  when  the  Magis- 
trates ordered  his  arms  to  be  pinioned.  He  seemed 
justly  indignant,  but  said  nothing  till  it  was  done, 
when,  turning    to  his  executioner,   he    inquired  '  if 


The  Voitj  of  Montrose.  307 

he  had  any  more  dishonour — as  they  conceived  it 
— to  put  on  him ;  if  so,  he  was  ready  to  receive 
it!' 

With  the  same  undaunted  courage  and  dignity  as 
he  had  hitherto  borne  all  his  misfortunes,  he  mounted 
the  ladder  that  led  to  the  gibbet.  The  clock  of  a 
neighbouring  church  struck  the  hour  of  three  as  the 
ladder  was  drawn  from  beneath  his  feet,  and  the  last 
sounds  that  Montrose  heard,  before  his  soul  was 
launched  into  eternity,  were  the  sobs  of  the  hang- 
man and  the  roar  that  burst  from  the  indignant 
crowd  below. 

The  great  Cavalier  was  dead. 

His  body  hung  for  three  hours,  and  then  the 
executioner  cut  it  down,  and  it  fell  on  its  face.  It 
was  dismembered  in  the  presence  of  Argyle's  son, 
lyord  Lome,  who,  after  ascending  the  scaffold  to 
ga^e  in  triumph  on  his  father's  dead  enemy,  re- 
mained to  see  it  hewn  in  pieces. 

Argyle,  however,  had  better  taste,  and  was  not 
present  at  his  rival's  execution.  It  is  said  that  he 
shed  tears  at  the  recital  of  his  noble  death.  Perhaps 
they  were  tears  of  remorse. 

Thus  died  Montrose,  in  the  thirty-eighth  year  of 
his  age.  His  name  and  memory  will  ever  be 
honoured  as  one  of  history's  grandest  characters. 
His  laults   were  those  of  his   age,   but   his  virtues 


3o8  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

were  far  in  advance  of  his  time ;  and  his  dignity, 
forbearance,  and  fortitude,  would  have  made  his 
name  illustrious  even  without  the  long  list  of 
splendid  victories  by  which  he  had  made  himself 
famous. 

The  fate  of  his  remains  is  remarkable.  His  head 
was  stuck  on  a  gable  of  the  old  Tolbooth  of  Edin- 
burgh, next  to  that  of  his  uncle,  Lord  Gowrie,  which 
had  been  there  fifty  years. 

For  fear  that  his  friends  should  remove  it,  the 
Parliament  ordered  it  to  be  secured  with  a  strong 
iron  bar. 

His  body  was  buried  on  the  Boroughmuir  Road, 
at  a  place  devoted  to  the  execution  of  malefactors  ; 
but  one  devoted  friend,  by  dint  of  paying  a  large 
sum  of  money,  got  possession  of  his  heart. 

It  was  Lady  Napier  who  dared  and  did  the  deed 
of  getting  Montrose's  heart  into  her  own  possession. 
This  lady  was  the  wife  of  Montrose's  dearest  friend. 
She  had  a  casket,  made  out  of  the  blade  of  her 
hero's  sword,  in  which  to  enclose  his  heart,  and  her 
descendant  still  possesses  a  portrait  of  her,  where 
she  is  represented  with  the  sacred  object  at  her 
side. 

The  gallows  on  which  he  suffered  was  left  standing 
a  long  time  in  the  place  where  it  was  erected,  with 
a  view  of  striking  terror  into  the  minds  of  any  Cava- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose. 


509 


Hers ;  but  the  other  prisoners  taken  with  the  great 
Marquis  after  Invercarron  were  all  beheaded  by  the 
Maiden,  or  Scottish  guillotine, — hanging  having  been 
reserved  for  their  leader,  to  mark  the  ignominious 
nature  of  his  punishment. 


fij^^y 


CHAPTER    IX. 

'  And  Scotland,  thou  may'st  veil  thy  head 
In  sorrow  and  in  pain  ! ' 

— Aytoun. 


HE  death  of  Montrose  struck  terror  and 
consternation  into  the  minds  of  the 
^^-^  English  and  Scottish  Cavaliers. 
Such  a  terrible  reprisal  on  the  part  of  the  Cove- 
nanters against  a  fallen  foe,  seemed  to  renew  all  the 
horror  that  moderate  men  had  previously  felt  at  the 
first  Charles's  death.  When  Charles  the  Second 
was  told  of  Montrose's  execution,  he  is  said  to  have 
felt  both  grief  and  indignation  ;  but  he  was  not  able 
to  indulge  in  resentment  against  those  who  had  put 
his  faithful  follower  to  death,  for  he  was  in  treaty- 
with  the  very  party.  When,  therefore,  a  few  days 
after  the  Marquis's  execution,  he  set  sail  for  Scot- 
land, he  was  forced  to  disguise  his  real  sentiments, 

and  meet  the  perpetrators  of  what  may  justly  be 

\  310 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  311 

called  a  murder,  with  assumed  cordiality.  It  was  a 
bad  omen  for  the  young  King,  that,  as  he  passed 
through  Aberdeen,  scarcely  two  months  after  the 
death  of  the  great  Captain,  almost  the  first  object 
that  attracted  his  attention  was  the  left  hand  of 
Montrose,  blackening  on  the  Tolbooth  gate, — the 
leg  and  foot  originally  destined  for  Aberdeen  having 
been  sent  to  some  other  town. 

Charles  was  horror-struck,  not  only  at  the  ghastly 
object,  but  at  the  bad  taste  that  permitted  it  to  re- 
main exactly  opposite  the  royal  lodgings.  He  had, 
nevertheless,  to  smother  his  indignation,  and  to  con- 
tent himself  with  resolving  to  collect  the  relics  of 
Montt-ose's  body  as  soon  as  he  was  his  own  master. 

Alas  !  not  even  Montrose's  execution,  nor  their 
negotiations  with  the  young  King,  sated  the  appetite 
of  the  Covenanters  for  revenge.  The  tragedy  was 
not  yet  played  out.  Fulh'  forty  Cavaliers  died  on 
the  scaffold  between  the  execution  of  Montrose  and 
the  restoration  of  Charles  the  Second. 

Sir  John  Hurry  perished  soon  after  his  great 
commander.  He  had  surrendered  under  a  promise 
of  quarter,  and  fully  believed  that  the  Estates  would 
have  pardoned  him.  He  was  condemned,  however, 
to  die  at  the  same  place  as  Montrose,  though  not 
by  the  gallows. 

Sir  John   Hurry  was  accused,  in  addition   to  the 


3 1 2  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or^ 

crime  of  joining  the  Marquis,  of  carrying  arms  under 
Prince  Rupert  at  Marston  Moor.  Young  Spottis- 
woode  suffered  with  him.  With  few  exceptions,  all 
met  death  as  calmly,  bravely,  and  well  as  their 
great  leader  Montrose. 

Sir  Francis  Hay  of  Dalgetty,  a  Roman  Catholic, 
when  led  up  to  the  Maiden,  made  some  jesting 
allusion  to  its  name,  and  smiling,  knelt  down,  kissed 
the  instrument,  and  met  death  without  a  shudder. 
The  Cavaliers,  by  the  serenity  with  which  they  met 
their  doom,  seemed  determined  to  triumph  over 
their  enemies.  Young  Spottiswoode,  a  most  accom- 
plished gentleman,  used  the  following  short  prayer 
before  he  died  : — 

'  Lord,  who  hath  been  graciously  pleased  to  bring 
me  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world,  I  trust  you 
will  now  waft  me  over  this  sea  of  blood  to  Thy 
heavenly  Canaan ! ' 

A  Presbyterian  clergyman  standing  by  called 
out: 

*  Tak  tent,  tak  tent,  sir,  that  ye  droun  not  by  the 
gate ! '  (way). 

Spottiswoode  smiled  as  he  said  in  reply, — 

'  I  hope,  sir,  I  am  not  an  Egyptian  ! '  on  which  his 
tormentor  retired  dumfoundered  into  the  crowd, 
without  another  word. 

The  last  Cavalier  executed  was  a  Captain  Char- 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  3 1 3 

teris,  the  scion  of  an  old  Scottish  family.  He 
had  been  dreadfully  wounded,  and  in  the  weakness 
following  on  his  sufferings  his  friends  persuaded 
him  to  listen  to  the  Presbyterian  ministers.  He  did 
as  they  wished ;  and  when  he  was  led  on  to  the 
scaffold,  he  made  a  long  speech  that  had  been 
drawn  up  for  him,  and  avowed  his  regret  for  having 
renounced  obedience  to  the  Covenant. 

The  poor  man  evidently  expected  that  his  life 
would  be  spared ;  but  the  Presbyterians,  for  fear — 
as  an  old  writer  says — *  he  should  fall  off  from  his 
principles  again,  cut  off  his  head,  and  sealed  his 
confession  with  his  blood  ! ' 

Dr.  Wishart,  the  faithful  chronicler  and  friend  of 
Montrose,  became  chaplain  to  the  Electress  Palatine 
Elizabeth  of  Bohemia,  with  whom,  in  1660,  he  re- 
turned to  England.  He  was  made  Bishop  of  Edin- 
burgh, and  his  tomb  is  still  to  be  seen  in  Holyrood 
Chapel.  Many  of  the  Cavalier  prisoners  were 
banished,  after  having  given  their  word  not  again 
<  to  fight  against  the  Covenant.  But  a  time  of  retri- 
bution was  to  come ;  and  after  the  Restoration,  the 
chief  number  of  those  who  had  condemned  Montrose 
and  his  friends  to  death,  themselves  perished  on  the 
scaffold. 

Charles  the  Second,  after  signing  a  treaty  with 
the  Scottish  Commissioners,  had  no  alternative  but 


314  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

to  set  sail  for  Scotland,  which  he  did  a  few  days 
after  his  faithful  adherent's  execution. 

It  seems  totally  inconsistent  with  the  latter  event, 
that  the  Estates  should  at  that  time  have  entered 
into  a  treaty  with  a  prince  whom  they  knew  to  be 
at  heart  a  Roman  Catholic  ;  and  in  order  to  ex- 
plain, the  fact,  and  to  give  a  consecutive  account  of 
what  followed,  it  is  necessary  to  remember  the  then 
state  of  Scotland. 

The  Scotch  are  natural!}'  loyal,  and  the  news  of 
the  late  King's  execution  had  been  received  by 
them  with  the  greatest  horror  and  regret ;  and  it 
was  in  obedience  to  the  national  voice  that  Argyle 
had  been  forced  to  negotiate  with  Charles  the 
Second. 

The  news  of  Charles's  death  at  Whitehall  reached 
Edinburgh  on  February  sixth,  six  days  after  the 
bloody  deed  had  been  perpetrated. 

It  was  brought  into  the  town  by  one  of  Strachan's 
officers,  named  Gowan, — a  determined  Independent 
and  Republican,  who  had  himself  witnessed  the 
King's  death. 

The  crowd  gathered  round  the  trooper,  and  lis- 
tened with  rapt  attention  as  he  triumphantly  recited 
that  all  was  over,  the  tyrant  dead,  and  Republicanism 
established  ;  but  even  as  he  spoke,  a  revulsion  of 
feeling    ran    through    the    populace,   and    they  cast 


The  Vow  of  Montrose. 


3^5 


down  their  faces,  and  clenched  their  hands  in  grief 
and  despair.  The  people  openly  declared  their 
anger  at  the  deed.  Tliey  felt,  as  they  dispersed 
mournfully  to  their  homes,  that  their  nation  had 
grievously  sinned  in  giving  Charles  up  to  his  enemies. 
God,  they  declared,  was  insulted  by  the  regicides, 
who  had  beheaded  the  son  of  their  native  princes, 
the  representative  of  kings  who  had  reigned  two 
thousand  years  in  Scotland  ;  therefore,  seeing  that 
the  populace  were  determined  to  return  to  their 
allegiance,  even  Argyle  dared  not  oppose  the  pro- 
clamation, at  the  Edinburgh  Cross,  of  the  young 
King's  accession  to  the  throne,  under  the  title  of 
King  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland. 

But  after  proclaiming  him  king,  the  Estates  deter- 
mined to  bind  him  down  to  recognise  the  Covenant. 

Before  Charles  the  First's  execution,  Argyle  had 
deemed  it  more  prudent  to  discountenance  Crom- 
well's views.  For  that  purpose,  he  had  sent  three 
Commissioners  to  England  to  protest  against  the 
King's  execution.  The  only  reply  vouchsafed  them 
was,  that  the  Scotch  had  better  join  England  in  a 
Federal  Republic  ;  and  that  as  to  the  Covenant,  it 
was  an  antiquated  document. 

The  Commissioners,  having  communicated  the 
state  of  matters  to  the  Estates,  were  enjoined  to 
treat  with  the  young  Prince  ;  but  Cromwell,  hear- 


,i6 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


ing  that  they  intended  going  to  Holland,  seized 
them  and  sent  them  home  to  Scotland. 

From  the  moment  that  their  dearly  loved  Cove- 
nant seemed  in  peril,  the  ruling  powers  in  Scotland 
turned  their  minds  towards  Charles  the  Second,  and 
sought  to  bring  him  back  again.  They  realized 
that,  much  as  Charles  the  First  had  menaced  the 
Presbyterian  religion  by  his  attempts  to  introduce 
Episcopacy  into  Scotland,  their  religion  was  more 
than  threatened  by  the  Independents,  whose  doc- 
trines were  thoroughly  adverse  to  their  own.  The 
Scots  had  indeed  suffered  for  their  adherence  to 
their  faith,  for  not  only  had  they  revolutionized 
their  land  in  defence  of  their  Covenant,  but  the 
whole  country  seemed  under  a  blight,  for  the  tyranny 
of  their  clergy  was  excessive,  and  the  gloom  that 
pervaded  the  kingdom  was  calculated  to  stifle  every 
mnocent  pleasure  and  amusement. 

The  influence  of  the  Presbyterian  clergy  amounted 
to  despotism ;  and  although  the  Presbyterians  longed 
for  religious  liberty,  and  had  'sold  their  King'  to 
get  it,  they  were  so  bigoted  in  the  belief  that  no 
other  creed  but  their  own  could  be  right,  that  the 
bitterest  persecutors  of  Romanism  had  never  ex- 
ceeded their  wrath  against  those  who  held  other 
creeds. 

After  the  Reformation,  the  whole  discipline  in 


The  Vow  of  Monti'ose.  317 

Scotland  as  regarded  Church  matters  had  changed. 
The  old  Romish  Consistory  Courts  were  abolished, 
and  in  their  place  sprung  up  Synods  and  Assem- 
blies. These  Synods  and  the  General  Assembly 
were  as  intolerant  as  had  been  their  predecessors 
the  Papists. 

They  passed  laws,  not  only  condemning  all  per- 
sons found  guilty  of  celebrating  mass  to  heavy 
fines,  but  even  to  death,  if  any  one  so  offended 
three  times. 

These  persecutions  continued  for  a  long  period, 
and  were  not  merely  directed  against  the  clergy. 

In  161 2,  the  Synod  of  Fife,  summoned  the  first 
Marquis  of  Huntly  and  the  Earl  of  Errol  for  the 
crime  of  refusing  to  conform  to  Presbyterianism. 
Both  noblemen  were  sentenced  to  be  excommuni- 
cated ;  but  one  of  them,  Lord  Errol,  ended  by 
abjuring  the  errors  of  Popery,  and  his  outlawry  was 
thereupon  withdrawn. 

Several  other  noblemen  were  prosecuted  ;  and  as 
the  Synods  had  full  powers  to  molest  and  prosecute 
any  holding  views  different  to  their  own,  the  issue 
frequently  ended  in  a  forced  subscription  to  the 
Covenant ;  but,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton,  such  adherents  were  not  always  faithful 
to  their  vows. 

Any  who  possessed  Popish  books  were  censured; 


3 1 8  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

and  finding  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  quench 
the  zeal  of  those  who  still  clung  to  their  former 
creeds,  the  Synods  enacted  that  no  book  treating 
of  religion  should  be  published  until  it  had  received 
the  approval  of  the  General  Assembly. 

Good,  however,  came  out  of  all  this  intolerance. 
The  Presbyterians,  in  suppressing  Popish  books  of 
religion,  forced  every  Roman  Catholic  to  acquire 
a  Bible  ;  and  under  fear  of  incurring  a  penalty  of 
ten  pounds  if  found  to  possess  no  copy  of  the 
Scriptures,  the  sacred  writings  were  thus  spread 
far  and  wide  among  the  burgesses  and  peasantry. 

It  is  to  the  zeal  with  which  this  was  carried  out 
that  we  may  ascribe  the  intimate  knowledge  of  the 
Scriptures  possessed  by  Scotch  peasantry — a  know- 
ledge which  has  ever  since  been  one  of  their 
greatest  characteristics. 

The  Synods  abolished  all  festivals ;  even  the 
observance  of  '  Yule '  or  Christmas  being  consi- 
dered superstitious. 

The  Reformers  found  great  difficulty  in  checking 
the  abuses  of  Sunday.  Before  the  downfall  of  the 
Papal  power  in  England,  the  Sabbath  had  been 
considered  only  as  sacred  from  Saturday  evening  at 
six  o'clock  to  the  following  day  at  the  same  time. 
This  led  to  the  evening  of  Sunday  being  very  ill 
spent.     The  people  used  to  frequent  theatres  after 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  319 

six  o'clock ;  and  even  markets  were  sometimes  held 
in  cathedral  closes,  and  within  the  precincts  of 
monasteries. 

The  fines,  however,  inflicted  on  persons  prac- 
tising trading  or  secular  occupations,  put  a  stop 
to  such  practices,  and  did  no  doubt  a  great  deal 
of  good  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  tyranny 
of  the  clergy  was  excessive,  and  the  noble  spirit 
which  had  dictated  the  first  Covenant  had  com- 
pletely vanished.  Instead  of  preaching  the  peace- 
able doctrines  of  religion,  the  clergy  employed 
their  pulpits  to  advocate  persecution  and  intoler- 
ance, and  to  hold  up  distorted  passages  from 
Scripture  to  justify  the  shedding  of  human  blood. 

This  religious  mania  reduced  Scotland  deplor- 
ably, by  checking  commerce  and  all  kinds  of 
innocent  amusements,  and  leaving  the  whole 
government  of  the  realm  in  the  hands  of  the  clergy. 
Argyle  was  the  leader  of  the  clerical  party,  at  the 
same  time  that  he  was  also  its  tool.  He  did  all 
that  he  could  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  clergy, 
by  doing  away  with  patronage,  and  raising  their 
stipends. 

He  proscribed  all  those  Cavaliers  who  had  been 
engaged  in  raising  levies  to  oppose  the  Covenant ;  and 
any  individual  who  had  carried  arms  for  the  King 
was  declared  'infamous,  and  unfit  to  serve  the  State.' 


320  The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or y 

A  perfect  trade  was  carried  on  by  unworthy- 
persons,  who  informed  against  'the  Engagers,' 
Argyle's  creatures  having  spies  in  all  the  places 
where  strangers  were  likely  to  lodge  on  first  arriv- 
ing in  Edinburgh ;  and  unless  large  fines  were 
extorted  from  them,  they  were  imprisoned  on  a 
charge  of  having  robbed  the  State.  The  burgesses 
and  gentry  were  thus  thoroughly  oppressed,  and  a 
complete  reign  of  terror  was  inaugurated, 

Argyle  had  rid  himself  of  his  rival  Huntly  before 
negotiating  with  Charles  the  Second  ;  and  the  latter 
step  he  had  been  compelled  to  take  in  obedience  to 
popular  feeling,  which  was  still  loyal  and  true.  As 
we  have  seen,  the  young  King  signed  a  treaty  with 
the  Estates  ;  but  the  melancholy  faces,  long,  sad- 
coloured  clothes,  and  clerical  bands  of  the  Cove- 
nanters were  thoroughly  uncongenial  to  Charles  the 
Second,  and  not  the  less  distasteful  were  the  strin- 
gent conditions  to  which  they  compelled  him  to 
agree  before  they  acknowledged  his  rank. 

The  first  condition  was,  that  he  was  to  renounce 
England  and  to  govern  Scotland  as  his  ancestors 
had  done  before  him,  acting  towards  the  sister  king- 
dom with  distrust  and  caution.  He  was  also  to 
promise  to  for  ever  abandon  and  to  banish  from  his 
Court  that  'excommunicated  man  the  Marquis  of 
Montrose  ;'  but  Charles — whom  history  has  accused 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  321 

of  negotiating  with  both  Montrose  and  the  Estates 
at  the  same  time,  and  while  authorizing  the  latter 
to  levy  troops  for  him  at  home  and  abroad,  had 
also  signed  the  treaty  of  Breda  with  the  Covenanters 
— had  not  fallen  low  enough  to  consent  to  either 
condition.  He  refused  to  agree  to  either  of  them. 
The  King  was  also  to  sign  the  Covenants  ;  to  estab- 
lish Presbyterianism  in  England,  when  able  to  do 
so  ;  and  to  submit  himself  in  all  things  ecclesiastical 
to  the  General  Assembly;  to  be,  in  fact,  a  mere 
puppet  instead  of  a  King. 

When  offered  these  terms,  Montrose  was  still  alive, 
ready  to  offer  him,  zvitlioiit  conditions,  his  sword  and 
even  his  life  to  restore  the  King's  power  in  England 
as  well  as  in  Scotland. 

Montrose  distrusted  the  Estates,  and  entreated  the 
King  to  repudiate  offers  of  assistance,  when  coupled 
with  such  hard  and  ungenerous  conditions.  Charles 
was  only  too  willing  to  accept  Montrose's  offer, 
and  determined  to  await  the  result  of  the  second 
expedition  before  setting  sail  for  Scotland.  We 
•  have  seen  the  sad  ending  of  Montrose's  descent  on 
the  Highlands,  and  now — to  end  this  volume  pro- 
perly— we  must  sketch  the  King's  subsequent  con- 
duct, after  the  failure  of  his  Captain-General  to 
restore  the  King's  power  by  the  sword,  when,  on 
the  third  of  June  1650,  he  arrived  in  Scotland. 


32  2  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

The  King  was  accompanied  by  several  noblemen 
who  had  been  proscribed  by  the  Estates,  among 
whom  were  the  Dukes  of  Hamilton  and  Buckingham, 
the  Earls  of  Cleveland,  Bramford,  Lauderdale,  and 
Carnwath,  with  various  other  Scottish  CavaHers. 

After  a  perilous  journey  of  twenty  days,  he 
reached  the  Spey,  and  landed  at  a  little  village 
called  Garmouth,  at  the  mouth  of  that  river.  He 
was  compelled  to  sign  the  Covenant  before  landing ; 
and  not  even  the  universal  joy  that  their  monarch's 
return  afforded  the  populace,  could  efface  from 
Charles's  mind  the  apprehensions  that  he  was  vir- 
tually a  tool  in  the  hands  of  the  Covenanters,  and 
that  his  restoration  was  still  a  thing  of  the  future, 
and  by  no  means  an  established  fact. 

The  sight  of  Montrose's  hand  withering  on  the 
Aberdeen  Tolbooth  was  not  obliterated  from  his 
memory  by  the  liberality  with  which  that  town 
presented  him  with  fifteen  hundred  pounds,  although 
the  Estates,  jealous  at  such  liberality,  sent  an  in- 
junction prohibiting  the  other  burghs  from  following 
so  good  an  example.  Though  the  Estates  ordered 
the  Castle  guns  to  be  fired,  bonfires  to  be  lighted, 
and  bells  to  be  rung  in  Edinburgh,  and  over  the 
kingdom,  in  honour  of  Charles's  safe  arrival,  they 
kept  him  at  the  Palace  of  Falkland,  instead  of  bring- 
ing him  to  Edinburgh,  and  sent  back  again  to  the 


The  Vow  of  Montrose. 


o^o 


Continent  all  the  English  Cavaliers  who  had  come 
home  with  their  sovereign. 

The  clergy  continually  lectured  Charles  from  their 
pulpits ;  one  of  them  going  so  far  as  to  say  that  if 
the  King  did  not  keep  the  Covenant,  '  it  would  be 
all  over  with  him.' 

The  Engagers  did  all  they  could  to  propitiate  the 
Covenanters,  and  in  that  way  remain  near  the  person 
of  the  King  ;  but  with  one  exception — that  of  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham  —  the  Cavaliers  were  all 
banished  from  the  royal  presence,  and  only  those 
attached  to  Argyle's  faction  were  allowed  to  remain 
near  him. 

An  anecdote  will  illustrate  the  King's  position  as 
regarded  his  followers. 

The  Earl  of  Carnwath,  one  of  the  Engagers  who 
had  accompanied  Charles  to  England,  happened  one 
day  to  enter  the  King's  privy  chamber  at  Falkland, 
at  the  same  moment  that  Argyle  was  coming  into 
the  room.  Argyle  with  great  haughtiness  ques- 
tioned the  Earl's  right  to  be  there. 

Carnwath  went  at  once  to  the  King,  and  told  him 
how  Argyle  had  treated  him,  and  denounced  him  as 
proscribed  by  the  Estates. 

He  took  leave  of  Charles,  hoping  he  would  never 
have  any  one  near  him  less  devoted  to  his  service. 

'  It  is  youi     oing,'  he  cried  in  parting  to  Argyle  ; 


324  The  Fieiy  Cross;  or, 

'but  I  care  not!'  Scarcely  had  Carnwath  quitted 
the  Court,  before  the  officials  received  orders  to  seize 
and  hang  him,  but  he  had  ehided  the  minions  of  the 
Puritan  party,  and  escaped  from  their  clutches. 

The  poor  young  King,  used  to  the  gaieties  of  a 
foreign  Court,  deprived  of  his  chosen  friends  and 
companions,  and  surrounded  only  by  Covenanters, 
was  miserable  indeed.  Argyle's  son.  Lord  Lome, 
commanded  his  body-guard,  and  all  his  retinue  were 
obliged  to  prove  that  they  had  signed  the  Covenant. 
The  King  could  indulge  in  no  amusement  without 
offending  the  Presbyterian  clergy,  and  was  compelled 
to  listen  to  interminable  sermons,  and  on  one  occa- 
sion heard  six  such  discourses  delivered  without  the 
least  rest  between. 

The  state  of  tyranny  in  which  he  was  kept  more 
resembled  the  condition  of  a  State  prisoner  than  that 
of  an  hereditary  King  among  his  own  people,  and 
this  went  on  till  Cromwell  determined — after  issuing 
a  proclamation  in  which  he  attempted  to  defend  his 
tone  of  action — to  invade  Scotland. 

Cromwell  endeavoured  to  justify  his  conduct, 
which  was  in  direct  violation  of  a  treaty  entered  into 
with  the  Scots,  by  which  he  had  promised  not  to 
make  war  on  them  without  three  months'  notice,  by 
declaring  that  he  did  so  because  he  saw  the  northern 
kingdom  bent  on  restoring  the  royal  power.     He 


The  Vow  of  Montrose. 


0-0 


therefore  mustered  a  large  body  of  sixteen  thousand 
men  to  invade  Scotland. 

The  Scots — the  common  people  especially — were 
dismayed  when  they  heard  of  Cromwell's  prepara- 
tions. They  dreaded  to  encounter  the  same  severity 
that  the  Irish  had  endured,  and  from  political  motives 
the  clergy  kept  up  all  the  horror  the  peasantry  felt 
at  the  cruelties  practised  on  the  people  of  Ireland. 

The  young  King  was  felt  to  be  an  important 
element  in  the  defence  of  the  kingdom,  as  the 
Estates  hoped  through  his  influence  to  attract  the 
scattered  Cavalier  party,  who  maintained  a  sullen 
reserve  while  active  preparations  were  made  through- 
out the  kingdom  to  enlist  an  army  of  thirty  thou- 
sand men. 

To  prepare  for  the  enemy,  it  was  necessary  to 
entail  a  great  deal  of  suffering  on  the  inhabitants 
of  the  country  lying  between  Berwick  and  the 
capital.  For  miles  the  land  was  laid  waste  ;  crops 
had  been  destroyed  by  fire,  and  the  peasantry 
chased  from  their  homes,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  their  supplying  food  to  Cromwell's 
soldiers. 

This  so  far  answered,  that  when  the  English 
soldiery  entered  Scotland,  not  a  man  was  to  be 
seen.  The  Roundheads  were  sorely  dismayed 
to  see  the  utter  desolation  of  the  country. 


326  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

The  English  entered  Scotland  in  July  1650,  just 
fourteen  days  alter  Charles's  arrival  in  that  country. 
The  Covenanters,  commanded  by  Lord  Leslie,  and 
cautiously  drawn  up  behind  the  fortifications  be- 
tween Berwick  and  the  capital,  awaited  the  enemy's 
coming. 

The  country  people  having  fled,  Cromwell  issued 
a  proclamation  promising  full  protection  to  those 
who  returned  to  their  homes.  The  peasantry  were, 
however,  slow  to  avail  themselves  of  his  offer  ;  and 
as  they  had  torn  up  all  their  crops,  levelled  their 
houses,  and  taken  their  goods  and  chattels  with 
them,  the  Roundheads  v^ery  soon  began  to  experi- 
ence both  cold  and  hunger. 

Bread  and  water  rations  did  not  make  Cromwell's 
troops  more  contented,  and  they  therefore  began 
to  murmur  loudly. 

Had  the  Covenanters  acted  differently,  the  issue 
might  have  been  changed ;  for  when,  on  the  twenty- 
ninth  of  July,  the  young  King  was  brought  down 
to  the  army,  the  inveterate  intolerance  of  Argyle's 
party  led  to  their  insisting  on  expelling  from  their 
ranks  all  those  who  would  not  sign  the  Covenant. 
Many  Cavaliers  had  joined  the  army  from  love  of 
their  country  and  a  wish  to  unite  even  with  their 
enemies  in  its  defence,  but  they  would  not  agree 
to  the  '  purgation,'  as  it  was  called,  and  the  conse- 


The  Vow  of  Afouirose.  327 

quence  was,  that  many  thousands  of  men  withdrew 
long  before  Charles  had  joined  the  army  at  Leith. 
The  Covenanters,  secure  in  their  own  spiritual 
pride,  declared  their  conviction  that  victory  would 
be  theirs  ;  but,  unhappily,  in  their  very  first  skirmish 
with  Cromwell,  they  were  beaten  back,  and  a  flank 
fire  from  Leith  alone  checked  his  further  advance 
into  their  territory. 

Several  serious  skirmishes  took  place  between 
Cromwell's  army  and  the  Scotch  troops  ;  and  the 
Independents,  who  mainly  composed  the  Round- 
heads' army,  infuriated  by  the  virulence  of  their 
adversaries,  who  denied  them  any  quarter,  fought 
with  increased  energy,  and  when  successful  took  a 
number  of  prisoners. 

Several  Cavaliers  were  among  the  number,  one 
of  whom  is  said  to  have  died  with  the  proverbial 
oath  of  the  Royalists,  '  I'll  go  to  my  king.' 

Cromwell  does  not  appear  to  have  behaved 
cruelly  to  the  prisoners,  and  the  peasantry  began 
to  discover  that  his  severity  was  not  more  terrible 
than  the  tyranny  of  their  own  Government. 

At  one  town  to  which  Cromwell  retired,  to  await 
the  arrival  of  some  vessels  laden  with  provisions 
from  England,  he  provided  the  starving  inhabit- 
ants with  corn,  to  the  value  of  two  hundred  and 
forty  pounds. 


328  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

The  Scottish  Estates  pubh'shed  proclamations, 
in  which  they  represented  Cromwell's  retreat — a 
step  he  had  taken  while  waiting  for  provisions — as 
the  sole  result  of  their  own  prowess.  They  even 
carried  the  deception  so  far  as  to  return  public 
thanksgiving  for  their  victories. 

But  Cromwell,  after  recruiting  his  army,  ad- 
vanced by  Colinton  towards  Edinburgh,  pitching 
his  tent  three  miles  west  of  the  capital.  He  was, 
however,  compelled  to  again  retreat,  this  time 
to  Musselburgh.  In  order  that  his  flank  and 
rear  might  retire  in  safety,  he  selected  Sunday  as 
the  day  for  the  march  ;  for  not  even  in  defence 
of  their  country  would  the  Scotch  fight  on  the 
Sabbath !  The  young  King  was  all  this  time  at 
Holyrood,  where  he  held  a  semblance  of  a  Court. 
Under  pressure  of  the  strongest  kind,  the  minions 
of  the  Estates  compelled  him  to  subscribe  himself 
a  devoted  Presbyterian,  and  in  writing  to  abjure  the 
acts  of  his  father  and  mother,  and  all  the  maxims 
and  traditions  of  his  family.  It  was  some  time- 
before  Charles  could  bring  himself  to  act  in  a  way 
so  repugnant  to  his  feelings  and  principles ;  but 
he  was  in  reality  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  the 
Scots,  and  at  length  affixed  his  name  to  the  paper, 
which  was  called,  from  its  having  been  signed  at 
that  burgh,  '  The  Dunfermline  Declaration.' 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  329 

The  Scots,  who  had  been  extremely  depressed 
by  their  losses,  were  gratified  at  having  wrung 
this  concession  from  Charles,  as  the  English  general 
had  accused  them  of  advocating  the  cause  of  the 
malignants,  and  they  hoped  by  this  declaration  to 
strengthen  their  hands  by  refuting  Cromwell's 
assertions. 

At  length  a  foe  far  more  dreadful  than  the  Scots 
declared  himself  against  the  Roundheads.  The 
English,  while  encamped  near  Colinton,  had  keenly 
felt  the  coldness  of  the  climate,  especially  at  night, 
and  at  length  an  illness,  called  *  the  country  dis- 
ease'— probably  low  fever — broke  out  among  his 
troops,  and  Cromwell  was  then  driven  to  propose 
terms  to  the  Scots,  on  condition  of  being  allowed 
to  retreat  unmolested. 

The  Covenanters  inferred  from  this  that  the 
English  general's  position  was  worse  than  it  really 
was,  and  they  resumed  hostilities  without  entering 
into  negotiations. 

Cromwell  was  too  great  a  man  to  be  daunted 
by  the  difficulties  of  his  situation.  He  withdrew 
his  force  to  Dunbar,  and  entrenched  himself  there 
till  he  received  reinforcements  from  England.  His 
retreat  was  attended  with  all  kinds  of  disasters,  and 
the  Scots  followed  him  along  the  Lammermuir 
hills  on  one  side  of  Dunbar. 


330  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

The  Scots  appeared  to  have  thoroughly  sur- 
rounded Cromwell.  Then,  with  their  usual  arro- 
gant confidence,  they  felt  sure  that,  hemmed  up 
between  their  army  and  the  sea,  they  had  him 
completely  in  their  power.  Dunbar  is  situated  at 
the  extremity  of  a  long  tract  of  flat  country,  having 
the  Firth  of  Forth  on  one  side  and  the  hills  on  the 
other.  The  Scots  reached  Doon  hill,  where  they 
overlooked  the  English,  and  called  a  council  of 
war  to  decide  on  what  should  be  their  line  of 
action. 

The  clergy,  who  were  numerously  represented 
in  the  Covenanting  army,  were  anxious  to  lose  no 
time  in  annihilating  the  enemy ;  others,  more 
prudent,  suggested  a  middle  course,  and  proposed 
negotiations,  and  that  Cromwell,  by  an  uncon- 
ditional surrender  of  arms  and  ammunition,  should 
be  allowed  to  quietly  retire  to  England.  In  spite 
of  the  confidence  with  which  they  talked,  they 
knew  his  great  vigour  and  ability,  and  had  a 
well-founded  fear  that,  if  pressed  too  hard,  he 
might  make  a  successful  stand  even  at  that 
eleventh  hour.  However,  more  impetuous  coun- 
sels prevailed,  and  on  the  second  of  September 
the  Scottish  army  lay  ready  to  attack  the  Round- 
heads. 

Cromwell  reviewed  his  position.      His  influence 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  331 

lay  with  the  army,  and  the  reh'gious  zealots  of 
whom  it  was  composed ;  and  he  knew  if  he  failed 
in  the  expedition,  he  would  either  as  a  prisoner 
in  the  Scots'  power  be  called  to  a  severe  reckoning 
for  the  regicidal  part  he  had  played,  or  from  the 
failure  of  the  expedition  lose  his  ascendancy  in 
England.  He  was  ensnared,  and  yet  did  not 
despair.  He  sent  off  all  his  sick  to  the  ships  on 
the  coast,  and  after  recommending  his  soldiers 
to  pray  for  help,  told  them  to  '  take  heart,  for 
God  had  heard  them,  and  would  appear  for  them.' 

He  was  lodged  in  Lord  Roxburghe's  house  at 
Broxmouth  the  day  before  the  battle ;  and  as  he 
noted  the  Scottish  army  in  the  distance,  he  cried 
out  with  triumph,  '  The  Lord  hath  given  them  into 
our  hands  ;  they  are  coming  down  to  us.' 

Nor  had  this  wonderful  military  genius  mis- 
calculated the  effects  of  religious  enthusiasm  on  his 
troops.  The  Scots  meanwhile  were  leaving  their 
position  on  the  hills  of  Lammermuir,  and  kept 
steadily  descending  through  the  slow  long  hours  of 
that  chill  September  night.  Dawn  beheld  their 
long  line  of  battle  drawn  up  in  front  of  Cromwell's 
army,  thicker  in  one  part  than  the  other,  because 
they  anticipated  that,  as  soon  as  he  should  be 
attacked,  Cromwell  would  attempt  to  escape  into 
England. 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or. 


This  night  march  was  the  greatest  error  Leslie 
could  have  committed. 

Though  double  the  number  of  the  English,  the 
Scottish  soldiers  were  totally  unprepared  to  compete 
with  Cromwell's  veteran  troops,  for  they  were  wearied 
out  with  their  arduous  march ;  their  powder  was 
damp  from  the  night  dews,  and  their  spirits  flagged 
from  want  of  that  refreshing  rest  which  the  Round- 
heads had  enjoyed. 

The  battle  began  before  the  morning  mist  had 
rolled  away,  and  after  a  long  struggle  victory  de- 
clared itself  on  the  side  of  Cromwell,  who,  as  he  saw 
the  sun  rising  behind  him,  and  marked  that  while 
his  soldiers  had  it  at  their  backs,  it  dazzled  the  eyes 
of  their  adversaries,  he  exclaimed,  '  Now,  let  God 
arise,  and  His  enemies  shall  be  scattered  ! ' 

The  sound  of  his  voice  as  he  uttered  these  words 
appealed  forcibly  to  men  who  believed  that  the  war 
they  were  waging  was  'the  Lord's  cause  ;'  and  with 
an  impetuosity  the  wearied  Scots  were  too  tired  out 
to  resist,  they  fell  on  their  enemies  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  hewed  them  to  pieces.  The  Scots  fled ; 
their  cavalry  trampling  the  foot  regiments  as  they 
turned  from  the  enemy ;  while  in  vain  their  clergy, 
the  cause  of  all  their  misfortunes,  implored  them  to 
stop.  Their  voices  fell  unheeded  on  ears  only  eager 
to  flee  from  the  sounds  of  their  pursuers,  and  for 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  2)0^ 

fourteen  miles  the  English  pursued  the  flying  foe. 
The  Sectarian  troops  recollected  that  the  Scots  had 
refused  them  any  quarter,  and  therefore  the  clergy 
were  the  especial  objects  of  their  bloody  vengeance. 
Those  who  had  gone  out  twenty-seven  thousand 
strong  in  the  morning,  shouting  their  favourite 
watchword,  'the  Covenant !'  fled  from  those  equally 
presumptuous  men  who  called  themselves  the  '  army 
of  the  Lord  of  hosts  ! ' 

It  is  enough  to  record  the  number  of  prisoners 
taken  by  Cromwell,  to  show  the  importance  of  his 
victory.  While  the  victorious  chief  lost  only  thirty 
men,  he  captured  ten  thousand  of  the  Covenanters, 
and  took  their  colours,  ordnance,  tents,  and  baggage. 
Cromwell  returned  thanks  after  the  battle  ;  and, 
providing  for  the  relief  of  the  wounded,  wrote  to  the 
House  of  Commons  recording  his  victory.  In  a 
letter  to  his  wife  written  the  next  day,  he  says  : 
*  The  Lord  has  showed  us  an  exceeding  mercy ! ' 
who  can  tell  how  great  it  is  ?  My  weak  faith  has 
been  upheld  ;  I  have  been  miraculously  sup- 
ported ! ' 

The  wreck  of  the  Covenanters'  army  fell  back  on 
Stirling,  while  Cromwell  gained  peaceable  possession 
of  Leith  and  Edinburgh,  and  most  of  that  part  of 
Scotland  south  and  east  of  Falkirk. 

Edinburgh  Castle  held  out  against  him,  and  manv 


334  1^^^<^  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 

of  the  Presbyterian  clergy  fled  for  shelter  into  that 
stronghold,  which  Cromwell  besieged. 

The  blow  the  Scots  received  to  their  pride  by 
Cromwell's  victories  was  not  unmixed  with  other 
feelings  as  far  as  concerned  the  ruined,  despised, 
and  small  remnant  of  the  Cavaliers. 

Charles  felt  that  his  time  would  come,  and  rightly 
judged  that  a  revulsion  of  feeling  in  favour  of  his 
royal  house  would  be  the  result  of  this  exposure  of 
Presbyterian  pretensions.  The  tyranny  of  the  clergy, 
and  the  arrogance  with  which  they  had  vaunted  of 
the  favour  of  the  Almighty,  had  proved  unequal  to 
repress  the  English  invaders,  and  Charles  trusted 
that  ere  long  the  people  would  see  that  their  real 
friends  were  their  ancient  kings.  Cromwell's  aim 
was  to  reduce  Scotland,  as  he  had  so  recently  suc- 
ceeded in  subjugating  Ireland. 

England  had  long  submitted  to  the  rule  of  the 
Commonwealth ;  and  though  Cromwell  was  only 
popular  with  the  army,  he  had  crushed  every  party 
antagonistic  to  his  own.  He  was  determined  to 
im.pose  his  own  Calvinism  on  the  Scots  as  well  as 
on  the  English. 

The  army  the  Protector  commanded  was  com- 
posed of  religious  zealots,  but  the  rigid  laws  of  their 
leader  were  so  strictly  kept  that  he  could  rely  on  his 
troops  serving  him  with  the  greatest  precision.     Tire 


The  Voiv  of  Montrose.  335 

austere  morality  of  his  troops  was  wonderful.  The 
Cavahers,  accustomed  to  use  profane  language,  were 
astonished  to  find  that  neither  drunkenness  nor 
gambling  were  ever  seen  or  heard  of  in  Cromwell's 
camp  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the  intolerance  with 
which  the  Independents  regarded  all  sects  but  their 
own,  had  led  them  to  outrage  without  mercy  many 
beautiful  English  churches  and  cathedrals,  declaring 
that  they  '  savoured  of  Popery.'  The  Republicans, 
indeed,  detested  a  religion  which  they  regarded  as 
having  enslaved  their  country. 

The  line  of  policy  Cromwell  and  his  party  had 
apparently  laid  down  was  to  conciliate,  with  a  view 
to  convincing,  the  Presbyterian  clergy.  Finding 
that  many  of  the  clergy  were  shut  up  in  Edinburgh 
Castle,  he  sent  up  a  messenger  to  beg  them  to  re- 
turn to  their  duties,  promising,  if  they  complied,  to 
protect  them.  A  long  correspondence  ensued,  the 
Presbyterians  sneering  at  Cromwell,  and  declaring 
that  they  alone  were  the  '  favoured  of  the  Lord  !  * 

To  this  Cromwell  replied,  that  were  their  asser- 
tions correct,  '  the  Lord  would  surely  have  stood  by 
them  during  the  late  battles.' 

A  long  controversy  followed  ;  and  even  the  Cove- 
nanters found  it  difficult  to  answer  this.  However, 
they  were  not  to  be  beaten.  They  put  the  whole 
blame  on  the  presence  of  Charles,  whom  they  con- 


2^6  The  Fiery  Cross;  or, 

sidered  as  responsible  for  all  the  misfortunes  of  their 
Government. 

They  held  a  solemn  fast,  at  which  they  declared 
that  the  young  King's  '  lust  for  an  earthly  crown ' 
had  been  the  only  cause  of  the  reverses  sustained  by 
their  arms.  One  preacher  went  so  far  as  to  say, 
*  that  were  the  King's  heart  as  upright  as  that  of 
King  David,  God  would  no  more  pardon  the  sins  of 
his  father's  house  for  his  sake,  than  He  had  done 
those  of  the  house  of  Judah  for  the  goodness  of 
Josiah  ! ' 

The  Covenanters  were  too  prejudiced  to  see  that 
if  they  had  joined  with  the  Royalists  when  Cromwell 
first  threatened  to  march  into  Scotland,  the  whole 
country  would  most  probably  have  laid  aside  its 
differences  to  repel  the  English  ;  and,  in  fact,  they 
so  thoroughly  detested  the  Cavaliers,  that  when  a 
fusion  was  proposed,  several  of  the  leaders  declared 
that  they  would  rather  join  Cromwell  than  fight  by 
the  side  of  malignants. 

Charles's  position,  in  the  meantime,  was  so  irk- 
some to  him,  that  in  October  of  the  same  year  in 
which  Cromwell  had  arrived  in  Scotland,  he  actually 
hoped  to  organize  a  rising  of  his  own  friends;  and  to 
free  himself  from  his  jailors,  he  managed  to  escape 
their  vigilance  so  far  as  to  get  away  from  Perth,  and 
to  bid  his  friends  meet  him  in  the  Braes  of  Angus  ; 


The  Vow  of  Mojitrose,  337 

but  before  the  meeting  could  be  organized,  the 
Covenanters  had  overtaken  him,  and  he  was  per- 
suaded to  give  up  his  intention. 

The  Covenanters,  however,  then  became  aware 
that  it  would  be  wise  to  recognise  Charles  as  a 
leader  ;  and  after  Cromwell  had  reduced  Edinburgh 
Castle,  they,  on  the  first  of  January  165 1,  crowned 
him  King  of  Scotland.  This  revolution  was  effected 
by  a  more  moderate  section  of  the  Covenanters, 

Those  who  carried  this  measure,  and  thus  recog- 
nised the  King,  were  called  *  Resolutioners  ;'  those 
who  opposed  it,  *  Protesters.' 

There  were  two  distinct  parties  from  that  time  in 
Scotland,  one  consisting  of  those  extreme  men  who, 
rather  than  admit  the  Royalists  into  the  State, 
withdrew  entirely  from  the  Government,  and  the 
Resolutioners. 

Strachan,  Montrose's  old  enemy,  headed  the  for- 
mer party,  and  under  his  leadership  it  endeavoured, 
by  raising  a  separate  army,  to  recall  the  Scots  to 
their  allegiance  to  their  former  guides ;  for  it  was 
the  stricter  leaders  of  the  Covenant  who  became  the 
Protesters.  But  Cromwell  defeated  Strachan's  army 
at  Hamilton,  and  after  that  battle  the  Protesters 
abandoned  all  pretensions  to  being  considered  a 
separate  military  party. 

The  King  after  that  became  the  actual  leader  of 


338  The  Fie^y  Cross  ;  or, 

the  Resolutioners  ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  and  his 
followers  still  preserved  an  outward  show  of  rever- 
ence, although  the  '  malignants  ' — as  the  Covenanters 
called  the  Cavaliers — formed  a  large  section  of  the 
army. 

Cromwell's  army  took  no  active  measures  till  the 
summer  following  the  young  King's  coronation  at 
Scone,  to  entice  the  Scots  from  their  entrenchments 
at  Stirling ;  and  then,  seeing  that  as  long  as  Charles 
drew  his  supplies  from  Fife,  there  would  be  no 
means  of  tempting  him  to  risk  defeat  in  open  battle, 
Crom.well  threw  four  thousand  men  into  the  country 
in  Charles's  rear,  and  thus  intercepted  his  means  of 
communicating  with  the  rest  of  Scotland. 

Charles's  troops  were  defeated  at  Inverkeithing. 
Two  thousand  of  his  men  were  killed,  and  six  hun- 
dred taken  prisoners.  The  King,  thus  defeated  in 
Scotland,  formed  a  sudden  resolution,  and  unknown 
to  Cromwell,  led  the  remnant  of  his  army  into 
England,  trying  to  rouse  that  country  before  the 
Captain  -  General  of  the  Scottish  army,  having 
heard  of  his  sudden  step,  should  be  able  to  follow. 
But  Cromwell,  leaving  General  Monk  in  command 
of  a  small  force  in  Scotland,  quickly  followed  the 
King  across  the  border,  and  overtook  them  at  Wor- 
cester. 

Charles  would  probably  have  carried  everything 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  339 

before  him,  but  that  the  Scots  deserted  in  large  num- 
bers as  they  marched  along  ;  and  the  Parliament, 
by  vigorous  measures,  also  prevented  an  immense 
number  of  Cavaliers  from  joining  the  royal  troops. 
The  King's  army,  by  the  time  he  reached  Worcester, 
was  diminished  to  eleven  thousand  men,  Cromwell's 
being  only  five  thousand  strong,  and  fatigued  by 
their  hurried  march.  It  was  the  third  of  September  ; 
and  though  the  Royalists  made  a  determined  re- 
sistance, they  were  dispirited  by  recollecting  that  on 
that  day  year  the  battle  of  Dunbar  had  been  lost  and 
won.  Again  victory  declared  itself  on  the  side  of 
the  Roundheads  under  Oliver  Cromwell. 

Charles,  dragged  off  the  field  of  battle  at  Wor- 
cester, escaped  alive,  and  eventually  got  abroad. 
Thus  the  last  active  resistance  made  to  the  iron  rule 
of  Cromwell  ended,  and  he  at  length  annihilated 
the  Scottish  arm)-,  and  dealt  a  death-blow  to  the 
Covenanters  of  Scotland. 

The  Marquis  of  Argyle,  who  had  not  joined 
Charles  the  Second,  still  held  out  in  his  own  country  ; 
but  he  was  at  last  surprised,  and  Scotland  was  then 
reduced  to  submit  unconditionally  to  England  and 
its  Republican  laws.  f 

Monk  found  no  difficulty  in  keeping  down  the 
Scots  during  Cromwell's  absence,  and  thencefor- 
ward,  till  the   Restoration  of  the  Stuarts,  Scotland 


340 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or. 


was  a  mere  province  of  England,  subject  to  its  laws, 
and,  in  fact,  a  conquered  land. 

Both  Cavaliers  and  Presbyterians  keenly  felt  the 
fallen  condition  of  their  country ;  yet,  though  no 
doubt  the  loss  of  their  national  independence,  for 
which  they  had  fought  so  long  and  so  valiantly,  was 
a  heavy  misfortune,  the  substitution  of  a  good  for  a 
bad  Government  turned  out  well  in  the  end  for  the 
Scottish  people. 

The  Presbyterian  rule  under  the  Covenant  had  been 
tyrannical  and  ruinous ;  and  when  the  Covenanters 
were  divided  into  two  parties,  religious  differences 
still  ran  so  high,  that  the  first  session  held  by  Crom- 
well's judges  had,  it  is  said,  to  adjudge  four  hundred 
cases,  which  arose  solely  out  of  private  quarrels. 

The  Church  Courts  had  enforced  confession  of 
sins,  real  and  imaginary,  under  threats  of  excom- 
munication ;  and  on  these  grounds,  suits  which  were 
a  complete  scandal  to  the  country  were  brought  out 
of  private  spite. 

It  was  an  easy  thing  to  accuse  another  of  the 
crime  of  witchcraft ;  and  when  the  Resolutioners  and 
Protesters  could  bring  forward  against  each  other 
nothing  else,  it  was  enough,  under  Covenanting 
rulers,  to  say  that  their  enemy  practised  sorcery. 

The  crusade  against  witchcraft  in  Europe  arose 
from  two  of  the  greatest  blessings  to  humanity,^ 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  341 

printing,  and  the  translation  of  the  Scriptures  into 
the  vulgar  tongue.  To  the  superstitious,  who  be- 
lieved in  the  actual  power  of  sorcerers,  there  was 
nothing  more  comforting  than  to  believe  that  to  put 
a  witch  to  death  was  not  only  justifiable,  but  pleas- 
ing to  God.  Protestants  and  Catholics  were  alike 
zealous  in  this  cruel  crusade  against  witches,  and 
Luther  rather  encouraged  than  repressed  the  per- 
secution, exclaiming,  '  I  would  burn  them  all ; '  and 
no  race  of  Protestants  were  more  energetic  than 
the  Scottish  Reformers  in  denouncing  the  so-called 
crime  of  witchcraft. 

The  ignorant  peasantry  were  actually  encouraged 
by  Kirk-sessions  to  give  up  the  names  of  those  who 
were  suspected  of  the  offence ;  no  priest  daring  to 
absolve  a  witch,  nor  any  other  person  supposed  to  be 
self-dedicated  to  Satan.  The  fate  of  any  one  found 
guilty  of  the  offence  was  piteous  in  the  extreme. 
Their  accusers  were  pitiless.  No  mercy  was  shown 
to  a  witch. 

There  was  no  offence,  possible  or  impossible,  of 
which  a  witch  was  not  suspected.  If  the  mill 
stopped,  it  was  said  to  be  bewitched.  The  storms 
at  sea,  the  loss  of  fishing-boats,  illness  of  children 
and  animals,  were  all  imputed  to  the  'evil  eye.' 
Candlemas  and  Halloweve  were  said  to  be  the 
annual  gatherings  for  those  practising  the  black  art. 


342 


The  Fiery  Cross  ;  or, 


Witches — so  the  ignorant  peasant  believed — tra- 
versed oceans  on  barges  of  eggshells;  or,  mounted 
on  goblin  horses,  would  rendezvous  at  some  hill- 
side,— 

'When  the  grey  owlet  has  three  times  hoo'd, 
When  the  grimy  cat  has  three  times  mewed  ! ' 

Witches  also  practised  divination,  and  pretended 
to  read  the  secrets  of  the  future  ;  but  at  last  the 
Church  grew  alarmed,  and  declared  that  sorcerers 
and  magicians  were  worthy  of  death  ;  and  the  Pro- 
testant Reformers  organized  and  led  the  crusade 
against  witchcraft. 

Knox  denounced  witches  from  the  pulpit,  and  the 
Kirk-sessions  were  constantly  occupied  in  judging 
persons  accused  of  witchcraft. 

Under  Cromwell's  rule,  this  and  a  great  many 
similar  abuses  of  justice  passed  away.  Finding  that 
disputes  between  the  rival  religious  parties  pre- 
vented the  free  administration  of  the  law,  the  great 
Dictator  determined  to  put  a  stop  to  clerical  inter- 
ference in  Scotland. 

In  1653,  the  Scottish  Assembly  was  dissolved  by 
military  force  under  Colonel  Coterell,  Avho  suddenly 
entered  the  place  where  the  ecclesiastical  body  held 
its  sittings. 

Surrounding  the  house  with  troops,  the  officer 
entered    with    some    soldiers,    and    demanded    by 


The  Vow  of  Montrose.  343 

whose  authority  they  were  sitting  there  to  de- 
liberate. 

'  By  no  earthly  authority,'  replied  the  Moderator, 
'  but  by  the  will  of  Christ,  and  to  promote  His  in- 
terest on  earth.' 

Coterell,  acting  under  Cromwell's  order,  mounted 
a  bench,  and  declared  the  Assembly  dissolved, 
because  it  had  no  authority  from  the  English  Par- 
liament, 

The  Covenanters  could  scarcely  believe  the  evi- 
dence of  their  senses  ;  but  the  English  officer  told 
them  to  be  gone,  or  he  would  order  the  soldiers  to 
disperse  them. 

When  at  length  they  got  up  and  prepared  to 
disperse.  Colonel  Coterell  led  them  out  of  the 
town,  and  warned  them  to  at  once  leave  Edinburgh, 
and  no  longer  agitate  their  distracted  country. 
The  Assembly  was  forbidden  to  meet  again,  under 
any  pretence  whatsoever,  in  larger  numbers  than 
three  at  a  time ;  and  thus  ended  the  representation 
of  a  factious  religious  body,  which  for  sixteen  years 
had  agitated,  oppressed,  and  burdened  Scotland 
with  wars,  both  at  home  and  abroad. 

Scotland  enjoyed  a  peaceful  time  under  Crom- 
well's rule ;  and  released  from  an  overbearing 
priesthood,  that  state  of  things  went  on  till  Charles 
the  Second's  restoration  in  1660. 


344  The  Fiery  Cross;  or. 

This  concluding  chapter  has  been  thought  neces- 
sary as  a  sequel  to  the  romantic  life  and  adventures 
of  Montrose. 

When  at  length  the  Stuarts  were  recalled  to 
England,  and  the  iron  rule  of  Cromwell  was  over, 
the  young  King  disappointed  many  of  the  Cavalier 
families,  who  had  shared  in  his  exile  and  sufferings, 
and  been  true  to  him  in  the  hours  of  danger  and 
penury ;  but  he  does  not  appear  to  have  been  un- 
grateful to  the  memory  of  Montrose.  In  January 
i66r,  he  ordered  the  remains  of  the  great  Marquis 
to  be  disinterred,  and  accorded  to  all  that  was  mortal 
of  the  hero  a  stately  funeral. 

Strange  to  say,  the  very  day  upon  which  the 
funeral  of  Montrose  was  solemnized,  Argyle,  then 
a  prisoner  in  Edinburgh  Castle,  was  aroused  — 
as  Montrose  had  been  on  the  morning  of  his 
execution — by  the  sounds  of  fifes,  drums,  and 
trumpets. 

His  inquiry  was  answered  by  the  attendants  tell- 
ing him  that  it  was  the  procession  starting  for  the 
Boroughmuir  to  bring  his  rival's  body.  Strange 
contrast  to  that  bygone  May  day  1650  ! 

These    honours   were    but    scant   justice   to   the 
memory  of  one  who  had  served  the  King's  house  ' 
so  devotedly  ;   and  as  long  as  history  records  the 
lives  of  great  and  good  men,  Montrose  will  ever-be 


The  Vow  of  Montrose,  345 

remembered  as  noble  and  true,  as  well  as  great.     In 
St.  Giles's  Church  his  body  rests  till — 

'  The  day  when  he  shall  show  them. 

At  the  throne  of  God  on  high, 

The  murderer  and  the  murdered, 

Met  before  their  Judge's  eye  ! ' 

It  has  been  difficult,  in  holding  up  to  admiration 
the  character  of  Montrose,  to  avoid  too  great  a 
bias  against  the  party  who  put  him  to  a  cruel  death, 
and  denied  him  a  fair  trial ;  but  it  must  not  be  for- 
gotten that  the  struggle  for  religious  independence 
in  Scotland,  and  for  the  maintenance  of  the  Cove- 
nant, was  originally  a  good  one,  and  would  have 
never  degenerated  into  secular  factions  and  tyranny, 
but  for  the  gross  intolerance  of  those  who,  detesting 
the  errors  of  Popery  and  the  follies  of  a  profligate 
age,  degraded  the  cause  they  sought  to  uphold  by  ■ 
injustice,  disloyalty,  and  deliberate  cruelty.  That 
the  reprisals  of  the  Royalist  party  were  severe  and 
persecuting,  none  can  deny ;  for  there  is  a  dark 
history  to  be  told  in  the  annals  of  a  later  reign  of 
hunted  Covenanters,  wno  bore  their  sufferings  with 
the  noble  endurance  of  martyrs.  When  civil  war 
became  rebellion,  the  royal  prerogative  was  often 
abused ;  and  as  we  read  of  cruelties  practised  on 
Scottish    peasants,   because   they   adhered    to    the 


346 


The  Fiery  Cross. 


Covenant,  we  feel  that  we  ought  to  rejoice  that 
those  terrible  times  are  past  and  gone,  and  that 
we  live  in  happier  days  than  those  of  the  gallant 
Cavalier  Montrose. 


THE  END. 


MOKRISON  AN'D  GIBB,  EDINBURGH, 
PRINTERS  TO  HER  MAJESTY'S  STATIONERY  OFFICE. 

4M— fi  S3— D. 


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.^ 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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